


Tulips Are Better; Dragons Are Best

by sweetiejelly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: paperlegends, F/F, F/M, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur loses a bet with Morgana and ends up on <i>The Bachelor</i>. As he identifies as bisexual, the pool of candidates is quite diverse and includes one Merlin Emrys, his ex. Arthur thinks it's fate. Merlin thinks it's bollocks. Thus begins (again) their courtship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks and love to my PL sign up buddy frances_veritas! This wouldn't have happened without you, Moey so thank you for signing up with me & for all of your caps lock of encouragement! Thank you also for my long-fic writing buddy moongirl24. Lene, I don't know if you knew but it super helped to freak out over emails together. lol Thank you to my cheerleader and lovely beta vix_spes! Your squees fuelled words for sure and your beta help is much appreciated. Thank you! And to chaz_collin, thank you for betaing a rough draft of this and getting me to re-evaluate the whole beginning! Also, thanks for catching the misspelling of Daegal's name! Never forgetting it now. :) Thanks and cookies also to the_muppet for being an amazing host of this fest. I'm so glad I got to be a part of it! Lastly, to NeigeAuSoleil - wow, I could not have asked for a better artist to go on this crazy journey together! I'm still in awe of you, Nana, just so you know. Thank you for creating these beautiful pieces. ♥ 
> 
> Some research was done re: the backstage process of _The Bachelor_. (For example, from an interview I found out that the contestants cried sometimes when they got cut on the first show not so much for the bachelor himself but because they've bonded as friends in the 3 days that they've already had to interact with each other. And in another I found that the constants found out who the bachelor was just the day before.) Here, I took some liberties with how it all worked. I also borrowed liberally from the show ( _Merlin_ ), so don't be surprised by the rats! ;)
> 
> Also, I had awesome betas/britpickers who worked on various stages of this fic; all remaining mistakes are solely mine.
> 
> Art is embedded in the fic but please do click [HERE](http://neigeausoleil.livejournal.com/3955.html) or on the banner below to give Nana all the love!
> 
> [](http://neigeausoleil.livejournal.com/3955.html)

**Prologue**

_Three years ago_

Merlin crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders. Perhaps he shouldn't have stepped out here for his break. It wasn't yet raining, but it was a close thing. The sky sagged with storm clouds and a hard wind howled, turning even his clothes against him. _Slap-slap, slap-slap_ went his coat and scarf. 

He balled up the napkins - festive reds and greens with decidedly _un_ festive words scrawled on top - and shoved them deep in his pocket. He didn't want to think about them, about what was written on them. 

He'd _meant_ to put down his New Year's resolutions. But last night at their flat, William went on a rant about how it was all a psychological hoax and who the bloody hell actually stuck to their resolutions anyway? Merlin loved his best friend, but sometimes he wondered just how they turned out so differently after practically growing up together. _Merlin_ was the kind who made resolutions and stuck to them too. 

"Do it then!" Will had challenged him. "Make your list and we'll see next year, shall we?" 

Perhaps Will jinxed him, but over his break earlier Merlin found himself making an entirely different sort of list, a list of the pros and cons of dating Arthur. It went something like this: 

Pros:  
\- makes me happy when we're together just us  
\- believes in me as I do him  
\- the sex/kisses/everything  
\- even just holding hands or talking 

Cons:  
\- prat  
\- can't hold his hand in public  
\- can't tell mum or Will  
\- his best mates think I'm his personal barista  
\- _prat_  
\- might  never get to hold his hand in public 

That last cemented his decision to leave, a decision he had been putting off as long as he could. Merlin slumped against the café wall and shivered. And tried again not to think. 

~~ 

He picked a fight after Christmas, coasting on liquor courage and flaming with liquor truth. And that worked for a day. That worked until Arthur dialled him at midnight, voice an absolute wreck. "I _need_ you, Merlin. I miss you." 

Merlin missed him too (like an arm would its hand). 

Days slipped by, and Merlin tried to ignore all the things on the pros list. But gods, he fell perfectly into Arthur like he was _made_ for him, and what was Merlin supposed to do? 

Make his New Year's resolutions apparently. 

Merlin was doing this. He was sticking to the plan today. He _was_. He was leaving. 

It didn't matter that Arthur was freshly showered, his hair still a little damp, his lips a moist red. It didn't matter that the prat looked like a Greek God rising out of the water, steam like wings behind him. 

It mattered _not a bit_ that Arthur grabbed the red tie Merlin gave him for his birthday, the one with golden threads weaved through its bodice and asked, "How's this?" Nope. So what if Arthur thumbed the silky thing to the hollow of his throat and cocked his head with such boyish charm? So bloody what? 

"Fine." Merlin shrugged, even though it all looked better than fine (it looked perfect). Over the layers of grown-up wear - crisp white dress shirt and pressed black slacks, dark grey waistcoat and velvety socks - the tie added a perfect splash of colour. 

It all worked. And of course it did. It was _Arthur_. From his hair to his skin to his carriage he looked golden, every bit 'The Prince' the tabloids had dubbed him. 

Once upon a time Merlin might have grinned, might have knee-walked across the bed and taken over with hands warm over Arthur's neck. Once upon a time he would have pulled him down for a kiss, one that started slow and burned thorough, one that popped buttons and not just for show. 

Once upon a time, but not today. 

Today was for leaving. Merlin swept a foot under the bed, groping for his duffle bag. _Ouch_. There it was. Found it. 

"What was that?" Arthur's hands slowed. 

"Nothing." 

"Only you can manage to make 'nothing' sound so loud, _Mer_ lin." Arthur smiled as he tugged the end of the tie neatly through the loop. Usually Merlin found the flex of Arthur's fingers distracting, found the way Arthur said his name endearing (with an extra curl of the tongue like it was special, like _he_ was special). 

But he wasn't falling for that today, no. Today Merlin was reciting the list of cons in his head. He was holding fast to his resolve. The answer, after all, to _why can't_ I _be your date?_ wasn't _come with my sister; we'll spend the night together_. The answer to _who is this?_ wasn't _why, Merlin's my favourite barista, of course_. 

"Not all of us can keep so quiet, you know. It's quite the accomplishment that nobody knows the most eligible bachelor this side of the pond is actually _taken_. Has been for a _year_." 

"Merlin," Arthur huffed, "must we do this _now_? I'm already late-" 

"-to your pretend date. I know." 

" _Merlin_. It's only a _stupid_ company party. I'd rather be home with you," Arthur said even as he reached for his mobile and his keys. 

"Would you really?" Merlin couldn't help the flicker of hope. If Arthur meant it... "Then stay." 

_Stay and I'd stay._

Arthur sighed. "You know I have to go. It's the biggest event of the year. I can't just let everyone down." 

Right. Of course. What was he thinking? 

"All right then," Merlin dragged his overnight bag out from under the bed, "Neither of us stays." 

Arthur's eyes rounded with confusion, then surprise, then edged with hurt as he took in the bag, the bag now on Merlin's shoulder. 

Merlin looked away. Puppy eyes would _not_ work on him today. "Go on then. You're already late for your grand party." 

Right on cue, Arthur's mobile chirped. "Don't be an _idiot_ , Merlin." Arthur strode to the bedroom door and paused there in profile. "I'll see you later." 

_No, you won't._ But for once Merlin said nothing. He patted his jean pockets for the letter, the dear Arthur. As his fingers clutched paper, the front door slammed. 

Arthur hadn't even kissed him goodbye. 


	2. The Bachelor

Merlin looped his scarf around again, trying for casual, trying for chic. There were mirrors all along the hallway, not that they helped any, of course. They just showed him how lovely and put together everyone _else_ looked. 

Thump-thump, lub-dub, _thump_. His heart rumbled in his chest. His hands trembled. At this rate he was going to strangle himself before he made it to the filming of the first episode of _The Bachelor_. 

With a sigh, he wondered if it was too late to murder Will for signing him up for this 'experience'. They used to watch the show together, him and Will, for the mock-me factor. Cheesy line? They had a drink. Someone said 'connection'? Another drink. Cattiness? Drink. Elimination cry? Drink, drink, drink! Those were not the most sober nights they'd spent sprawled over the sofa, lagers in hand. 

And yet, William had gone and bloody nominated him as a contestant. Granted, the bachelor _this_ time around was a bit special. This bachelor was to be the show's first bisexual bachelor, which Merlin thought was a bit brave of the bloke (the bachelor, not Will), and a huge part of the reason he even considered going. 

"You haven't taken a vacation or dated properly in three years, Merlin. You need to stop working so hard. Your dick's atrophying." 

Merlin had stared some more at the invitation letter for follow-up interviews and did that say _psychological_ testing? "Atrophying? Big word there, mate." 

"Sod off," Will had flipped him off. "Look, I'll admit it, yeah? I signed you up on a whim. I was right pissed that night. Just broke it off with Lauren and I thought hell, one of us should have somebody. Might as well be you. But look, look at it this way. I may have just gotten you a ticket to one of the most brilliant, ridiculous, free vacations you're ever going to get to go on in your life. You might even get a shag out of it or at least some snogging. So, bloody well enjoy it, yeah?" 

Merlin half wanted to throw up and half wanted to throw his hat in. This was the way it went with Will. Merlin knew his mate was looking out for him in his own weird way. It was just this was _reality TV_ , in front of god knew how many mock-hers(-and-hims) with alcohol at the ready and oh god, his _mother_. "Maybe. But I thought this was about love?" 

"Seriously, Merlin. Let's be real. Who bloody finds love on a bloody show?" 

_Perhaps me_ , Merlin had thought quietly. And perhaps a small part of him agreed that Will had a point. About the vacation part. And the not shagging. And the shagging. Well, definitely the snogging part. 

In any case, he was here now. He'd signed away his life for the next day to six months (and potentially his privacy for the rest of eternity). With one last look in the mirror - his hair was beyond rescue but at least his scarf was sorted - Merlin walked out to the limo with his fellow contestants. 

Gwen, his current favourite of the batch, pulled him down next to her. Merlin might have been nervous but she was whole body shaking. "I'm so jittery and-and excited and what do you call it? _Anxious_. God. Do I have lipstick on my cheek? It happened once when I went out with this lad Thomas and it was _mortifying_. Me, calling myself a makeup artist!" 

Merlin squeezed her hand and passed her a glass of champagne. "Here. Forget Thomas. You look lovely." And she really did in her pretty lavender dress and with curls falling softly around her face. 

"You look really good, too," Gwen smiled warmly at him before taking a large sip. "Very hipster adorable. And that red scarf is pure genius," she nodded at him. "It's really going to set you apart. Good thinking there, Merlin. He'll definitely remember _you!_ " 

Merlin frowned down at himself. It wasn't a strategy thing; he just liked scarves. He wore them - red and electric blue, rainbow and every hue - to the park, to work, to Tesco, to the pub. It was his favourite piece of accessory and he felt naked without one. 

He cast a nervous glance at the crowd nearest them in the limo. Sefa and Daegal shot him small, friendly smiles, but Mordred in his formal suit and tie and Vivian in her short white dress both turned their noses up at him. 

Merlin heaved a silent sigh and had - what else was there to have? - a drink. 

* 

Arthur took a deep breath. The view here at the villa was beautiful. The sky was clear. The flowers were blooming. There should be no reason for foul moods. No reason at all to clench his jaws and grind his teeth. This was ridiculous. _You're being ridiculous_ , he tried to tell himself. _Men and women - twenty-five of them! - all vying for your affections. Really, what could go wrong?_

"I'm going to kill Morgana," he groaned as he rubbed at his temples. 

"What's that, Arthur?" Lance, one of the filming crew, poked his head out from behind the equipment. "Do you need anything?" 

Oh, Arthur needed lots of things - for the show to be over, a ride home to London, a nicer sister. He shook his head. None of it was Lance's fault. If anything, Lance with his kind eyes and calm demeanour was one reason (besides that bloody long contract) that Arthur hadn't yet bolted the scene. 

"I'm good," he plastered on a smile, one he hoped he didn't have to keep faking throughout the night. 

He was so going to get Morgana back when this was all over. There had to be something in the rulebook of the universe about not putting your brother up for auction _in the most publicly humiliating way possible_ just because his favourite footie team had an off season. He should have insisted on betting money, like normal people. Alas, there was nothing normal about them. 

Morgana bet a mountain? Arthur had to bet the moon. 

Now here he was, in the south of France, and about to be broadcast everywhere via television. Arthur tugged on his shirt cuffs, twisted his thumb ring, and took another deep breath. 

Too bad it didn't help. Too bad all he could think about was how royally he mucked things up three years ago. If only he'd… 

Well, regrets were quite useless, weren't they? 

* 

If Merlin thought the photo shoots and interview videos, the psych tests (gods, but _those_ were actually amusing) and meeting twenty-four other people who were going to share his maybe future lover for the next few weeks was weird, then meeting the bachelor himself was downright surreal. 

Arthur. It was _Arthur_. 

The hosts, a couple named Tristan and Isolde, told them so in the limo on the way to the meet and greet. Merlin had gasped. Out loud. Emphasis on _loud_. 

"Do you know him?" Gwen had swivelled to look at him. Everyone in the limo did, like some ridiculous line of kittens tracking a feathered toy. 

"Who _doesn't_ know him?" Merlin had tried to play it off with a wide smile. But his heart lurched. It still hurt three years later. 

The universe must hate him. It had to if it kept throwing Arthur at him. _Look how shiny! Sorry, you can't have him._

"Indeed. Who doesn't know him?" Isolde picked up the strand of conversation like the pro that she was. "Arthur Pendragon is after all the heir of Pendragon Estates and one of London's most eligible bachelors..." 

Merlin tuned her out. He wanted to leave. His scarf suddenly felt too itchy, his jeans too tight, his shirt too thin, the alcohol too weak. He wanted - god, he wanted to be on the other side of the telly equation. Farther away even. He didn't think he could even watch. This wasn't happening. 

Only it was. 

And rather quickly at that. The limo eased up around the last bend, throwing into view a red-roofed, butter-coloured mansion, a three stories with too many rooms across for Merlin to even count. He shut his eyes. This was all too much. 

Earlier he was only too glad to go first, volunteered in fact. Now he wanted to snatch back his words. Desperately, he turned to Gwen. "Please, please, do you mind going first?" 

"Merlin," Gwen gripped his hands and pointedly ignored Tristan and Isolde and the blinking camera light. "Are you alright?" 

"I just - I wasn't expecting _him_." That much was the truth. Merlin could feel Tristan and Isolde's eyes boring into the side of his temple but he just couldn't. "Erm, I just need a minute." 

"We can slate you to go last," Isolde consulted her call sheet and spoke quickly into her earpiece. "Done. Gwen, darling, you're up first." 

Merlin sat back, his mind a blank, as person after person filed past him to meet Arthur, _his_ Arthur. 

Under his skin, his magic hummed, an impatient flash of gold fidgeting about the seams. If ever Merlin wished he had more control over his abilities, it was now. He would stop time, become invisible or shape shift into a butterfly, _anything_ that didn't leave him stuck inside his own body, his own time. 

Alas, his magic had always been a little (a lot) in love with Arthur. Even now Merlin felt the tell-tale warmth of it trying to break free and flit closer to Arthur. Carefully, and resolutely, Merlin curled up his fingers, balling them in and in, nails scratching hard against the flats of his palms. 

_Arthur_. 

He was going to see Arthur again. 

* 

Arthur wasn't sure what to expect. He had never watched _The Bachelor_ before, only knew the gist of it from Morgana and from the occasional adverts on the telly - dates, roses, finding somebody or not finding somebody. 

Arthur was leaning towards not. Really, what were the odds? 

Leon thought it was slim to none, and Arthur trusted him above almost anyone. His best mate looked at the tabs open on his browser - all pointed to _The Bachelor_ site - and closed them all. 

"Noooo," Leon said. 

"No?" 

"Noooo." 

But so far everybody had been lovely. Arthur had no idea what Leon was on about. There was Gwen, the first lady, who looked flawless in her grace but stumbled all over her words in endearing nervousness. There was Gwaine, the first bloke, who looked like a sailor and acted like one too, complete with rakish winks. There was Sophia who looked an absolute princess. And there were Daegal and Sefa, who looked like baby lambs. Only one girl tripped over her ridiculously high heels, but Arthur loved her - Elena? Elaine? (there were one of each) - for the excuse to move from his stuffy spot atop the stairs. 

All in all, this was a group of exceptionally well dressed people, each with smiles and cheek kisses for him. Some even looked natural doing it. Arthur allowed himself to relax, breathe. 

And then the limo door opened one last time. 

* 

If anyone asked, Merlin would insist he wasn't prone to drama. But he'd be damned if he didn't feel choked with both fight and flight responses (and fling and sigh besides) as he stepped out of the limo. 

Arthur. Dressed to the nines. Hair a halo in the setting sun. 

And then the bloody prat grinned at him, charming in that way he had to make even uneven teeth a virtue. (See? Not perfect, just perfectly lovable. _Love me_.) Of course. Only Arthur. 

Merlin loosened his fists as he resigned himself to walking up the stairs. He always seemed to be doing this, walking towards Arthur. Except last time, a voice reminded him. Last time you were an idiot and you walked away. 

"Shut up," he said to himself. Only, it came out much louder, more thunder than whisper thanks to the mike clipped to him. 

"Isn't that my line?" Arthur was suddenly too close, his hand on Merlin's arm too warm. And then his lips were there, brushing at the edge of Merlin's lips, just a fleeting touch that felt more familiar than it had any right to feel. Three years wasn't a minute. Though it might as well have been. "Hello." 

"Arthur." Merlin deliberately took a step back, putting as much distance as he could between them with Arthur still holding onto his arm. 

"It's... customary for the contestants to introduce themselves at this point." Arthur's eyebrows and chin lifted in that maddeningly arrogant way that he had (that definitely did _not_ star in Merlin's many memories slash fantasies, ahem). 

"It's customary for the contestants to make a fool of themselves too, but," Merlin shrugged, "I don't fancy it." 

Arthur barked out a laugh. "Merlin." The way his name rolled off Arthur's tongue wasn't fair. "It's good to see you." That was doubly unfair the way Arthur went dead earnest, dead sweet. 

"Right," Merlin forced a smile. "I bet you say that to all of us." He poked at the soft material of Arthur's tie (marble blue today, probably to match his eyes) and pulled away. 

Only, he wasn't half fast enough. Arthur caught his hand, pinched his forefinger, and caressing, slid along the length of it, sending memories sparking bright between their skins. "Caught me. I'll see you inside?" 

Merlin swallowed hard. Arthur's voice, especially in this intimate pitch, was always one of his favourite things. He could sleep to it, laugh or cry from it. He could come listening to it. 

He gave a curt nod and walked away. He didn't allow himself a backward glance. Not one. He barely managed walking upright over the cobbled stones as it was. Alcohol - that was his only thought. Need more alcohol. 

* 

Arthur let himself feel without reserve. Merlin! Merlin was back. He grinned into Lance's camera and gave his easiest, truest confession of the night. 

"That was Merlin, my ex. I never thought I would see him again. This must be fate or-or destiny, kismet, serendipity, _something_." Arthur took a moment to look past the camera towards where Merlin had disappeared. He wanted to follow. He would this time. 

"Three years ago, Merlin... left. I was deep in the closet and he most definitely was not. It didn't work out between us, but here we are again. I've made a change in my life, obviously, and he's here. He's _actually_ here. I'm still pinching myself. I hope this means..." He drew a steadying breath. "I hope this means our second chance will be the charm. We'll see." 

Privately, he granted himself another smile. _Merlin_. Arthur remembered everything about their year together - from the first day to the last night. It was the best secret he'd ever harboured and the absolute worst. 

* 

Merlin turned away from the camera and pulled on his scarf. It was too hot. The lights on him were too bright. Everything burned. They want a confession? They've already got physical proof of it. The way his hands were shaking? Guilty. The way his boots kept click-clacking? Guilty. The way he blushed? God, he was so screwed. Arthur bloody Pendragon. _Again_. 

"I don't know if I can do this. I dated Arthur before and we didn't - we didn't work out. Why would we, right? Arthur's... _Arthur_ and I'm-I'm-" 

The camera stayed steady on him, ready to capture every drop of his freak out. Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, closed his mouth, _tried_ to shut his mind. 

Couldn't. 

He thought about his mum, who had never met Arthur. About Will, who had no idea either. After all, Merlin was really good at sneaking out at night. He was also really good at sneaking out in the morning. (It wasn't a great skill as far as he was concerned.) 

He could just picture Will's jaw dropping when he found out this little secret. For some reason, that did it. That steadied him. Will would never let him live it down if he lost it. Merlin huffed a soft laugh and turned to face the camera. 

"That was uh... that was ages ago though. Ancient history." He shrugged, feigning indifference as he smoothed down his scarf. "Cheers." He hurried, half tripping, inside to the hot hiss of too many lights overhead and too many bodies everywhere. 

~~ 

When Arthur made his way in the mansion to join them, Merlin was mostly ready, collected again and just this side of giggly from the alcohol. 

He didn't even roll his eyes too hard when Arthur spouted the well-rehearsed line of having a 'feeling' that his soul mate was here somewhere in the room with him. 

* 

Whatever good feeling Arthur had earlier in the evening from meeting everyone was quickly dissipating. He knew there were bound to be those who came on the show for less than pure intentions, whether it was fifteen minutes of fame or fifteen bottles of booze, but he honestly had no idea just how disruptive they could be. 

He had only gotten a moment alone with Merlin when Elaine of "You know what this party needs? More Elaine!" inserted herself in between with a too-wide smile and sharp fingernails. Merlin excused himself easily enough. Again. 

Earlier, it had been the inadvertent disruption from young Mordred who had gotten lost on his way back from the loo. And before that, it was Hair Flip Gwaine who seemed equally interested in chatting up Merlin and Arthur (and also Percy and Gwen besides). Dark and mysterious Nimueh too, snagged Arthur on the pretext of fixing his tie once, and he had lost Merlin then to the maze of flora and camera. 

Arthur tugged on his collar in agitation. He just wanted a second with Merlin, a second chance, a fresh start, a do-over. He could do better. He knew he could. And he wanted Merlin. _God_ , did he want Merlin. He even admitted as much to Morgana when she'd informed him of her nefarious plans to make him the new bachelor. "But I've already _found_ my person, Morgana. I've just… temporarily misplaced him." 

Morgana had blinked once, slow, catlike, unimpressed. "Let me remind you, dear brother, that _The Bachelor_ is a television show. People watch these programmes, you know, on their telly. Perhaps he will see you and, provided you don't _completely_ cock it up, might even fall for you again. Who knows? The fates work in mysterious ways." He'd muttered quite sullenly then, " _You_ work in mysterious ways," not that Morgana paid him any mind. 

Now Arthur was afraid he was completely cocking it up. He looked past the sleek Greek columns at the sashes of oranges and purples tied low in the sky, and did a double take. Why yes, that shift in the shadows _was_ Merlin. He stood not ten paces away, framed between two strings of lanterns, glowing golden. Gorgeous - Arthur always thought Merlin was, otherworldly, even with - no, _especially_ with - his wide arcs of ears. 

Merlin stared at him unblinking and Arthur stared back, heart in ears, barely breathing as Merlin strode over to him. This was it. This was his chance to talk to Merlin. 

Only, talking didn't seem to be what Merlin had in mind. His eyes bore intense, hawk-like into Arthur's as he neared. This was focused, goal-oriented Merlin. This was Merlin with an agenda. This Merlin grabbed him around his forearm and tugged, dragging him unceremoniously to a dark nook of the house exterior. 

Without preamble, Merlin pushed him up against the bricks and leaned in. For a moment they shared a breath - inhale (eyes on eyes), exhale (eyes on lips). 

He surged forward just as Merlin surged towards him. Their noses bumped. No matter. Their lips opened over each other. Their chins rubbed, stubbly and scratchy in a way that Arthur felt all the way down to his toes. He curled them (toes) and curled his tongue. Merlin tasted of champagne and crackers - salty, sweet, exhilarating. And Merlin felt solid and warm, blessedly _real,_ with his lean arm muscles and a hard thigh pressing insistently in between Arthur's. 

Arthur remembered this from his days of pretending, when they'd waited as long as they could before pushing inside a closed door, a closed stall, or sometimes even the clichéd closet, to press together as tightly as they could. 

This urgency tasted a bit like that. Only better. Arthur knew this semi-circular curve in the wall, shaped to look like a giant seashell, had to make for a difficult angle to capture - they'd be mostly shadowed - but he had no doubt one of the many circulating cameras was trained on them, filming all movements, all sounds. 

_Good_. 

He sucked on Merlin's tongue, a filthy slurp of a move, and was rewarded with a moan and a rub of hardness against his thigh. 

But too soon there were Merlin's hands sliding down, fingers unclenching from his hair to grip his shoulders. Merlin pushed off and pulled back, his lips still shiny with spit and red with use. "Wanted to get that out of my system." 

"This?" Blindly, Arthur reached out and tugged on Merlin's scarf, nudging him into another kiss, softer, sweeter, like the ones they used to share in Arthur's flat on Arthur's bed on those lazy Sunday mornings when the world seemed so far away - just a shadow of raindrops falling or a bright rub of sun dappling. 

Merlin made a noise in the back of his throat, like maybe he remembered. But then he pushed Arthur back and looked him straight in the eyes, and there was no smudge of nostalgia there. "Was doing this show even your idea? Or did Morgana put you up to this?" 

"What?" Arthur was thrown, which was his only excuse for the truth that fell out of his mouth, too fast for his brain to catch. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

Merlin huffed and shook his head, disappointed in a way that Arthur didn't understand. Did Merlin _want_ him to have signed up for this gig himself? Why wasn't Merlin more sympathetic that Morgana bested him yet again? Merlin always was before. Amused yes, but sympathetic too. 

Before Arthur could wrap his head around any of it, wrap his mouth around any sound, Merlin was pushing past, wordless, quick, gone. 

Arthur slumped back against the wall and tugged on his collar some more. This wasn't going the way he'd hoped at all. 

* 

Merlin twirled the rose in his hand. It wasn't a real rose at all, he realised. Someone had gone in and trimmed the thorns. He wanted something to anchor him and found only smooth stem, the even breathing of Arthur waiting for his answer. Right. None of this was real. Should he stay or should he go? 

On the one hand, it was _Arthur_ , the man he spent a year in secret dating and falling in love with. The man who just kissed him earlier and made him feel fifteen different things - longing and belonging, regret and hope - that he never thought he would feel again from just a kiss. 

On the other hand, it was _Arthur_ , the man he dated in secret _for a year_ and who just admitted that he may not want to be here at all himself. Merlin should have known. Public disclosure wasn't an Arthur thing to do. He cared too much what others, especially his father, the formidable Uther, thought of him. 

"Merlin?" Arthur asked again, a nervous bob to his Adam's apple and an uncertain look to his eyes. Trust Arthur to bring out Merlin's Kryptonite. Whenever Arthur got like this, usually after a row with Uther or a particularly bad day at the office, often both, Merlin's protective instincts always swarmed to the surface something fierce. 

"Fine," he said. 

" _Fine_?" 

"Roses," he gestured to the plate of them, "not my favourite." 

"Sorry to say they were fresh out of tulips." 

"Too bad." Merlin tried not to smile. 

_Tulips are better than one_. That was how they first met. 

Merlin had served up that quip of the day on the marquee in front of the coffee shop where he worked. And for that whole morning, he'd been pretty proud of the sign. Until Arthur had waltzed in during lunch, less than impressed, and told him that almost everyone had two lips, so that wasn't as clever as he thought. "Two tulips might actually make sense." 

Merlin, quite bored before Arthur's interruption and growing more amused by the second, stepped out to change the message to: _2 Tulips are better than one_. 

They tilted their heads, like a pair of synchronized divers, inspecting the sign from the right and then from the left. "No," they decided at the same time. "That's worse." 

"I think we just disproved the two heads are better theory, my friend," Merlin had clapped a hand down on Arthur's shoulder. He'd really _looked_ at him then, too. Arthur's side-swept bangs were long, blond dripping down his face. And what a face! A sculptor's dream was Merlin's first thought. 

But then Arthur opened his mouth. "Nothing's wrong with mine. Must be yours then." 

"Oi!" Merlin shoved off of him. "The amendment was _whose_ idea? Or do you lack short term memory as well?" 

Arthur huffed, tilting his aristocratic nose up to better glare at Merlin. "You can't talk to me like that. Do you know who I am?" His eyebrows knitted all serious. 

"Pratty blond with bad ideas?" Merlin couldn't help needling him. 

Arthur's mouth had dropped and he'd stomped away. He'd come back though the next day and the day after that and then the next one too, if only to argue with Merlin some more. "You don't even sell flowers!" 

"Or heads," Merlin had helped him out, quirking an eyebrow. Arthur had stared at him a moment too long and then licked his lips and blushed furiously. 

He'd stomped away that day too. 

They carried on as such with Arthur even ordering coffee some days. ("I'm more of a cuppa kind of guy.") Until one morning, Merlin had put up on the marquee: _free imaginary scuba lessons_[ _*_](https://foursquare.com/item/50b7e833498e235cc6c2782b). That day Arthur came in laughing. "I need to be on whatever you're on. That's the most ridiculous sign I've ever read." 

"Not a big sign reader, are we?" 

Somehow that just made Arthur laugh harder. 

A week later they ended up in the supply room with Merlin pressed back against the new shipment of sugar packets, Arthur's lips espresso-warm and impatient over his. (He did have to wait a good half hour until Merlin's break.) And that was that. Merlin had never been as arse over tit for anyone before or since. 

Now he wondered if it was such a good idea to throw his heart to the fire again. He looked up and caught Arthur's eyes, caught their slant, the dark way they were hooded over, intense. He'd bet anything that Arthur was thinking about that night some weeks later when they soaked in the bath, when the prat lined wet tulip petals all up and down his cheek, his neck, his spine. And then they had wrestled and splashed and gotten more dirty than clean. And the next morning, Merlin had woken to a petal pressed to the pillow and Arthur, sleep-heavy, crushed to his side. 

That was such a long time ago though, when he still believed they could have hours of doing nothing, have each other. 

Arthur gathered him into a bear hug, startling him out of his reverie. If Merlin hugged back, it was purely out of necessity, so he wouldn't fall down. When he was returned to the upright position, Merlin shuffled back to the group, to his spot next to Gwen. His heart hung heavy with missing them. Somehow he must have done a bang up job of pretending to be happy, however, because Gwen only gave him a friendly shoulder bump and toasted his rose with hers. 

Merlin swallowed down his feelings and tried to pay as little attention to the proceedings as possible. Honestly, there was entirely too much giggling and hugging and breathless yeses all around. 

But blessedly soon, Arthur was calling out the last rose of the night, even though it was for _Elaine_. Merlin tried not to cringe as she squealed and rushed forward in a blur of orange. And it might have just been his imagination, but he thought he saw the same cringe pass over Arthur's face. 

* 

Arthur stretched an arm above his head and turned again. He punched the pillow and then another one. But no matter what he did he couldn't seem to get comfortable, couldn't seem to fall asleep. New beds did that to him. 

Old boyfriends too. 

Well, he's only ever had the one. 

Arthur flung off the blankets and walked to the coffee table, to where he had left the photos of the fifteen remaining men and women competing for his hand. 

Make that fourteen. Merlin wasn't so much engaging as tolerating him at the moment, if the 'fine' and the lip after was any indication. 

But then there was that kiss. Arthur tried not to think about it or what it meant, which only meant that he couldn't stop thinking about it. About the way Merlin's lips moved against his, firm and pliant all at once. About the way Merlin's tongue licked along his mouth the way it used to do, with the knowledge of starting fires. 

Arthur plucked Merlin's picture up from the pile. The mess of inky hair hadn't changed. Nor the light in those baby blues. He brushed his fingers along the line of cheek. If anything, Merlin had become thinner, worked to skin and bones as they say. 

When they were together, Arthur often brought Merlin sandwiches over lunch, on pretence of having too many at company meetings when really, he always had his PA George order extras, and really, he just wanted an excuse to see Merlin. 

Merlin would eat, tucking in with enthusiasm the way he did everything else. (When he kissed Arthur too, it was easy to believe kissing was necessary.) 

Arthur groaned in frustration. 

Merlin was frustration, sexual or otherwise. Arthur stared up at the moon, which stared right back, round and bright and unsympathetic. 

He sighed and lay down on the sofa and tried to do maths in his head. Doing maths did always lull him to sleep. 

Also wanking. 

Which was what he had to resort to after his mind trailed off from numbers to _ears_ and _fingers_ and _lips_. Arthur slipped a hand under his pants, feeling like a teenager, and tugged. Merlin's headshot grinned up at him - gorgeous smile, lit from eyes to lips - and Arthur's hand sped up, gripping firmer. He replayed the kiss with Merlin, the hot way Merlin licked into him, like he was still into him. Like he never left at all. And Arthur didn't last, not at all. Merlin's stare made sure of that. 

Merlin did always like to watch him over Skype when he was away on location scouts. Arthur would track Merlin's eyes (lashes), the edge of Merlin's earlobes (red), Merlin's elegant fingers curled tightly around his own cock (long), Merlin's _noises_ (many). 

Arthur came with a few of his own. 

~~ 

He woke to a crick in his neck (not surprising) and an emergency meeting (surprising). Isolde looked nervously at Tristan and Tristan looked nervously back. It didn't bode well, especially not before breakfast. 

"Arthur," Tristan started, "we went through the tapes last night. You are doing very well." 

Isolde followed up on his words with three too many nods. 

"But..." Arthur fidgeted in his seat and tried to massage the knot out of his neck to no avail. 

"But, you don't want to make it obvious that you prefer Merlin over the rest of them." 

"But... I _do_." 

"Right," Isolde cut in and patted his hand. "And it's your prerogative to have a favourite. That's sort of the point of this exercise here. But you have to understand that we have no show if you keep going around completely besotted with Merlin and all but ignoring the rest of them." 

"I don't..." Arthur trailed off as he took in the look on the faces of everyone around the table. Even Lance gave him a 'sorry mate, but you really do' shrug. 

"What do you suggest I do then?" 

"We want you to pick from amongst the others for small group dates and leave Merlin on the big groups for now. And when you choose one-on-one dates, we would strongly suggest you choose someone other than Merlin." 

"Because I've..." - _kissed, shagged, loved_ \- "...dated him before?" 

"Exactly. And the show, the audience really, would like you to get to know the others and spend some time with them." 

Even though Arthur wanted nothing more than to say _no, thank you_ and take Merlin on all the dates and then run away with him, he had to concede this point. The show wasn't called _The One Who Got Away_. 

He nodded gruffly and winced as his neck muscles snapped at him. "Is there any coffee by any chance? And paracetamol?" 

He was going to need both if the powers that be kept shoving the likes of Elaine at him and pushing his Merlin so far away. 

* 

For the most part, Merlin was glad for the opportunity to do nothing all day. So Arthur didn't pick him for the first group date. Merlin kept his head down, tried to keep his expression neutral when Nimueh read the list of people who _would_ be pseudo-acting out romantic scenes from films with Arthur all snuggled up to them: Mordred, Elena, Gwen, Vivian, Gwaine, Percy, and Daegal. 

Merlin was fine with it. He really was. It was just that he came prepared for this particular challenge. They would be Todd and Neil from _Dead Poets Society_. They would fly unimaginative stationary off the roof and squeeze tight into a cave to read poetry. It would be brilliant. 

But it was fine that Arthur would rather do photo shoots with the others. Merlin didn't care. At least he wouldn't if he wasn't so _bored_. Apparently they were just supposed to lounge about and gossip. They had no access to the internet, no phone, no television. Just booze and sun and talk. 

Problem was Merlin had already spent three days with these people. He knew, for example, that Gilli was a sweet kid who wanted too much too fast. "I just need the start-up money," Gilli told them the first day. "I already have a little of my own magic," he toyed with his ring. "It wouldn't be long before I'm my own boss and don't have to answer to anyone." 

"So, you're here for a sugar daddy?" Elaine stared him down and then laughed loud and callous when he blushed bright red. "Well, aren't we all?" 

" _No_ , we're not _all_." Gwen beat Merlin to it. "Don't go around speaking for everyone." Merlin could have kissed her. 

"Hear, hear," Gwaine toasted her. "Some of us are here for the man himself." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Think they've got a good one this time? Fit? Tall? Not terrible with a sword?" 

Half the room groaned. They were getting to know Gwaine quite well indeed. 

But lucky for them, Sefa came in just then with a tray of mixed drinks, tall flutes and glasses in an assortment of colours. Gwaine's attention shifted immediately. 

To be fair, all of their attentions shifted to the spirits. Sefa was building quite a reputation. She was a barmaid turned personal cook. Merlin _wished_ he could afford to hire her. As it was, he was happy to help her with the trays of goodies. 

Gwaine, of course, leapt into action. He brought out a second tray from the kitchen to cheers. And tipping back his first shot of something red and fizzy, he dubbed Sefa his favourite person in the whole wide world. 

"For now," Mithian teased. "Weren't you just drooling over our bachelor two minutes ago? The fit one with the tall sword?" 

Gwaine, quite unfazed, only raised his glass and winked. "Here's to tall drinks and tall swords!" 

Gilli, barely just recovered from his previous embarrassment with the sugar daddy comment, promptly choked on his drink. 

Merlin wasn't up for that sort of company this morning. He dawdled in the kitchen with Mithian and Sefa, brewing a pot of his specialty coffee, cooking (but mostly eating) omelettes and smoothies and debating the merits of onions (he was pro, as long as they were caramelised). 

As soon as Kara and Elaine breezed into the room though, gossiping about the group out on the date with Arthur - "So overdone, oh my god!" "One would think there were no mirrors around." - Merlin made himself scarce. From Sophia and Nimueh, too, he kept a wide berth. Gilli was nowhere to be found, which was just as well. Merlin wasn't up for babysitting either. 

He made his way to the pool and allowed himself the vacation part of the programme. At least Merlin _tried_ , but his mind kept straying to Arthur and snuggling. And he wanted to know what everyone was doing, which films they picked and which characters. He knew Gwen was doing _Pride and Prejudice_ with Elizabeth and Darcy. He knew Percy was doing _The Avengers_ with Tony and Steve. He knew Elena was doing _The Princess Bride_ with Buttercup and Westley. But the rest he had no idea. 

It was that curiosity (and the complete lack of alternatives to do) that drove him towards where the photo shoots were taking place. He took his time, smelling the roses as he went. The spread of gardens gave way to a slope of greenery. Then it was blue again, the air bright with salt as it announced the ocean nearby. 

Merlin ducked behind a tall hedge and watched. Arthur was there at the heart of the action, laid out next to Mordred on a lounger. Arthur was pulling down Mordred's hoodie zipper and staring down at Mordred's face. 

Merlin remembered this scene. He watched this film with Arthur. He loved this film with Arthur. Irrationally, he wanted to kick Mordred off the chaise and take over, even if that meant he had to look up at Arthur looking at him for - good god, how long did it take to snap a few pictures?! 

Not that Merlin cared or anything. 

"Merlin!" Nimueh's voice that sudden that close made him jump. "Spying are we?" 

"Erm, no? Wha-?" 

"Relax," she hooked her arm through his and smiled like she had a secret. "I won't tell if you won't." 

"Erm..." Merlin really didn't have a response to that. It wasn't as if Nimueh hadn't brought along a cameraman with her, a fat lens zoomed in square on them. 

"Ah, _Shelter_ ," Nimueh continued as if this were all quite normal. "Smart boy. I'd look out for that Mordred. He may look innocent but he sure is playing to win." 

_What about you? What are you up to?_ Merlin shrugged. "Aren't we all?" 

They watched silently as the shoot wrapped up, as Arthur and Mordred shared a hug. They watched as the staff set up for the next shoot with Vivian and the overdone _Romeo and Juliet_ balcony scene. 

There was much shuffling around, a flurry of activities all about Arthur, making sure their bachelor looked flawless in his new costume for his new role. 

Merlin shifted from foot to foot as his shoulders (and eyelids) drooped under the relentless heat of the sun. He might have even said he was getting bored, ready for a little siesta. 

But then Vivian's photo session with Arthur began. And what happened next Merlin couldn't have predicted in a million years. 


	3. The Warlock

The shoots were going quite well, if Arthur did say so himself. He did wonder what Merlin's pick would have been. It would have been wonderfully quirky, that much he knew. It would have been worth it too, if only Arthur got to hold him awhile. 

Still, Arthur was having a good time, his neck crick aside, with the group assembled. He scored a few good laughs, especially with Elena finally at home atop a horse and with Gwaine and meatballs atop a plate of pasta (the cheeky bastard chose to do that scene from _Lady and the Tramp_ ). 

Then came Vivian's turn. 

She wanted to do some photos of her up on the balcony and some later on of the palm to palm dance. Arthur was absolutely fine with that plan. At least he was until he tried to crane his neck that far up to gaze upon his 'Juliet'. 

He winced and dropped his head to his chest, rotating it a couple of times. "Sorry about that. Ready now." He held his pose - a rose between his lips, both hands grabbed onto the wall to look like he was climbing, just as the photographer directed him to do - even though the pain in his neck was distilling into a steady throb-a-throb-a of a beat. 

Vivian must have noticed. She could hardly have not with Juliet gazing so intensely down upon her Romeo. "Ar-?" 

She never got to finish her sentence. With a flail of arms and a rustle of dress, Vivian tumbled over the railing, her shriek following all the way down. Arthur couldn't react fast enough, not with his awkward position, and especially not with his neck thrown. He only got as close as an arm's reach away as she impacted. 

Fortunately she impacted on Quick, Big, and Strong (aka Lance, Percy, and Gwaine). The trio moved smoothly under her like Miss Bianca to the rescue. 

Somehow, a camera and tripod got moved out of the way as well. 

Luck, Arthur thought, or something like that. Like perhaps a sign from above to abort this group date _immediately_. 

"Oh my god, I just flashed the world." Vivian scrambled to get up from the circle of arms that caught her. 

"That's not the worst that could have happened, is it, love?" Gwaine swept back his curls to look her in the eyes. 

Instantly, Vivian went from white to deep crimson. She glared at Gwaine before catching herself. "No! Gods, sorry, no. I... thank you." 

"Relax, princess," Gwaine cracked a smile as he patted her arm. "I'm just glad your pretty neck is still attached to your pretty face." His gaze lingered over her. 

And alright, that was quite enough. "Gwaine," Arthur stepped in and clapped him on the back, maybe a smidge firmer than he needed to. "Play nice. Viv here just plummeted two stories. Let's let her catch her breath. But I do thank you, gentlemen. Those were some impressive moves." 

And indeed they were. If _these_ blokes were on Arthur's footie team, he never would have lost his bet with Morgana. As it was, he was glad these blokes were _here_ instead. 

He shook and clasped all three of their hands in turn. Gwaine grinned and thumbed at the sensitive skin at his wrist. Percy blushed as his giant hand swallowed up Arthur's in a gentle shake. Lance ducked his head and tried to move out of the range of the camera lens. 

Arthur let him go and turned to Vivian, who was in a huddle with Gwen and Elena. Lightly, he touched a hand to her elbow. "How are you feeling? Shall we get you checked up, make sure nothing's broken?" 

Vivian, her composure much recovered, shot him a saucy smile. "Why, Arthur, are you offering to check?" 

* 

Merlin held his breath and stood as still as he could next to Nimueh. He couldn't tell if _she_ could tell that something was off. But she was definitely taking in the scene with a speculative gleam in her eyes. 

"My, my, wasn't that a lucky catch?" 

Merlin couldn't speak. He knew it wasn't luck. Luck never had anything to do with things like this. 

It was magic, pure and simple. _His_ magic. It just poured out of him instinctively in matters of life and death. It always had. 

When Vivian fell, he'd stopped time without a thought. Her scream cut off mid-breath and Merlin had gasped to realise what he'd done. All was silent. Everyone else was frozen in place. Every _thing_. It was like he took a giant remote to the world and hit pause. Only, the remote was a heavy bugger of a thing. Merlin strained to keep his finger down on the button. 

He sprinted as fast as he could towards Vivian and grabbed the first thing he saw out of the way - some heavy equipment. He came nose to nose with Arthur and the frantic worry writ there, but tore himself away before he could touch. He gave Lance, Gwaine and Percy each a little push forward instead (just enough to make their speeds impressive, not enough to make them impossible). And that was it. The pause button was popping back up. 

Merlin sprinted back. 

He was barely in place when - _boom-thud,_ just like that, Vivian dropped into the safety of six arms. Merlin tried not to breathe too hard. He was already covered in a sheen of sweat. Nimueh flicked her eyes over him as he tried to calm his breathing. 

"Film magic," he blurted belatedly in response to her rhetorical question. "Must have rubbed off." When Nimueh simply smiled, he continued, "Really hot day today." He loosened his scarf. 

"Indeed." She didn't move away. 

* 

After the near death experience with the _Romeo and Juliet_ scene - which, _of course_ it would be - Arthur had to excuse himself from the photo shoots. First, he had to take Vivian to the doctor. And then he had a one-on-one date with Gwen, the only one who had yet to have a turn in front of the camera. "Will you dine with me?" He'd offered without thinking. But apparently it was the right thing to say. Isolde and Tristan beamed at him from the sideline, looking immensely proud. 

Immediately Arthur regretted his offer. If Tristan and Isolde approved... 

Still, he was a man of his words. And dinner was dinner, even when it was set up with the added pressures of a rose on the table and a camera at close range. 

Gwen was distracted, as could be expected, with the day's events. 

"And Lance and the rest were such knights to rescue Vivian like that," she said during hors d'oeuvres. "Not that - not that you're not knightly, Arthur. I'm sure you are. You've been nothing but respectful and chivalrous towards all of us, which can't have been easy." 

She chewed thoughtfully and then swallowed quick and bug-eyed when she realized what she'd said. "Which is not to say," she hurried on, "that we're terribly difficult or-or that you're fake or boring, which you're not, I'm sure. Oh gods, somebody shut me up." 

"Would you like more rolls, my lady?" Lance offered her the basket before Arthur thought to do something. Gwen's whole face relaxed, frowns un-frowned and lines un-lined as she smiled gratefully at him. 

Arthur sat back and ate puff pastry. So. This was an interesting development. He was relieved more than anything. Now he didn't have to worry about inadvertently breaking Gwen's heart. They could just be friends, and great friends, too, judging from the way she worked through her meal - with enthusiasm approaching Merlin's and with words rushing one after the other like Merlin, too. Yeah, Arthur could definitely see them getting on. He could even see her getting on with Morgana. 

He said that last part out loud. "I think my sister would like you. She could be a straight shooter herself, with more honesty than most are prepared for. Plus, she's always mucking about with makeup, not that she needs any." 

"Morgana Pendragon? Oh, my lord, she's gorgeous. I agree. Although, I admit, I could play with her all day long." She blushed as her words settled. "I mean, makeup! Doing makeup all day long. She'd look good with just about anything." 

Yeah, Morgana would _adore_ her. "Don't actually tell her that," Arthur gestured with a fork. "Her head's big enough. What about you? Do you have any siblings?" 

"Elyan, yes. He's my big brother. I love him, I do. He's smart and fun and loyal and brave." She frowned a little. "I only wish he were a bit more accountable. You shouldn't just disappear on your family when your mother dies and your father's heartbroken, you know?" 

Arthur reached over the table and squeezed her hand. He knew a thing or two about being a disappointment, about being heartbroken. "My mother died in childbirth. My fault." 

Gwen murmured something about babies being blameless, but Arthur knew better. So he ploughed on, "My father was heartbroken. Still is. Apparently theirs was the fairy tale sort - true love, if the stories are to be believed." 

Gwen nodded, encouraging. "Tell me one? But only if you want to. Perhaps how they met?" 

Arthur didn't have many stories. His father didn't like to talk about it. But the story of how his parents met? That Arthur could do. 

"Of course." He swallowed and set down his fork. "Geoffrey, an old family friend, told me this one on my eighth birthday." He remembered it clearly. How he lingered by the open door of the master bedroom and couldn't tear his eyes away from the image of his mother grinning in the circle of his father's arms. The photo faced the bed, framed in silver. In it, his parents looked happy, young, beautiful in that way that love made people beautiful. 

Geoffrey found him stuck like gum in the hallway and led him away. And when Arthur had asked, tentatively, if Geoffrey could tell him about his mum, please? This was the story Geoffrey started with. 

"It was... well, let's see. It was in London," Arthur counted off on a thumb, "on a dark and stormy day," forefinger, "with rain pouring down so hard you couldn't see past your nose." He mimed the curtain of rain. He'd imagined it enough times. If ever anyone invented a time machine, that was a moment he would choose to visit, to find out if it was all true. To see his mother outside of rare photographs. 

"My father ducked under an awning, closed up his umbrella and promptly bumped into my mother. She was, and I quote, 'striking in the rain' with her hair wet and eyes amused. Father was smitten instantly. 

"And then mum asked if she may have her arm back. That was when father realised the handle of his brolly had hooked onto her and was in fact all the way around the tie of her dress." 

"Oh, gods," Gwen covered her mouth with a hand. 

"Exactly oh gods. But they managed to untangle themselves and struck up a conversation and apparently never stopped. Until - well. She was, by all accounts, the love of his life. And that's _really_ cheesy, I know, but that's- that's why I'm here." And Arthur allowed himself to overlook the fact that the lost bet was the first real reason. "I want to find someone I can love _that_ much that I'd be an absolute wreck without them." Like Merlin, he didn't say. 

Gwen made an 'aw' noise and wiped her mouth on the napkin, ever the lady. In a surprising move, she reached for the rose perched in the vase between them and presented it to _him_. "Arthur, thank you for sharing your story - or your parents' story rather. Really, it was lovely. This is no brolly, but would you please accept this rose?" 

Arthur laughed. Oh, he really liked her. He nodded as he reached for the bud. "I will." 

They, or maybe it was just Gwen, giggled over the food and looked often into the camera (at Lance). At the end of their meal, Gwen offered Lance a slice of the tiramisu. "It's _so_ good! You have to try it. I feel terrible that you skipped your dinner and just watched us eat!" 

With a subtle chin move, Arthur encouraged Lance to take the plate. Take the girl too, he tried to telegraph with his eyes. 

But Lance was too nice for that. He took only the cake. 

* 

Merlin found it slightly unsettling sharing a room with Mordred. At first, the heavy silence spooked him. It always felt like Mordred was plotting something. But tonight Mordred got tanked at dinner and kissed him goodnight. And now Merlin wasn't sure if Mordred wanted to kill him or do him. Both prospects unnerved him a bit, one more than the other. 

Not that Mordred wasn't an attractive lad in his own right. Merlin could see the appeal, could see why Arthur kept him on. But it wasn't for Merlin. 

Not much was these days. He had tried dating but his heart wasn't in it. The dates inevitably ended in awkward goodbyes or awkward one night stands. It felt untrue, and worse, hollow to find heat without care, to find bite without humour. After his mistake blurring the lines of friendship with Freya, Merlin stopped dating altogether. Even being with her, as dear as she was to him, felt wrong. Merlin found he didn't much want anyone anymore. 

Well, besides Arthur apparently. Earlier, watching him diffuse the Vivian and Gwaine situation and seeing him take care of and acknowledge everyone, including cameraman Lance, reminded Merlin of why he loved the prat in the first place. Arthur was noble and good in a way that was hard to find these days. 

He sighed and wandered further into the sprawling grounds around the mansion. It was beautiful out here. It really was. A jewel-toned paradise. Everything was perfectly manicured aside from surprise bursts of wild gorgeous at the heart. Kind of like Arthur. 

"Oh my god, shut up." 

"Talking to yourself again?" 

Merlin jumped as he took in the drape of Arthur on the pagoda bench. He must have been really lost in thoughts if he failed to notice a whole _person_ and Arthur at that. _This was how people got themselves kidnapped_ , he thought. 

Arthur gave him a considering look. "I'm not sure if I want to know what goes on in that head of yours." 

"Precisely why they're called _private_ thoughts," Merlin couldn't help snapping. 

Arthur snorted and then _smirked_ at him, eyebrows raised just so. 

Merlin huffed and tried to glare at him. Arthur was doing nothing, literally just lying there, one of his knee casually bent, both his palms folded over his belly, calm. Yet Merlin felt his heart thudding to see him. Maybe it was Arthur's popped collar, the way the white fabric fell open over his tanned neck and the upper bit of his chest. 

Whatever it was, Merlin felt it, this pull of Arthur laid out, practically stamped with invitation. Arthur had quite the sensitive neck, he remembered. Merlin stared at a pulse point as a memory shimmered, almost solid - Arthur straining against him, trying to get closer as Merlin bit and licked, teased and sucked down this slide of salty skin. 

He cleared his throat. "What are you doing out here anyway?" 

"I could ask you the same thing." Arthur sat up and tried to turn his head. His wince made Merlin wince. 

"Your neck's bothering you." Merlin took a step closer. 

"Yes, and the sun has set." Just then another tendril of pain shot through Arthur, plain by the face he made. "Make it all better?" Arthur gripped the juncture between neck and shoulder and looked up at him pathetically, puppy eyes pooling midnight blue. 

Merlin sighed and shuffled a few steps closer. "You _know_ we have a doctor in residence. You took Vivian to see him today." He replaced Arthur's hand with his, going slow. 

"Mmm," Arthur leaned into his touch. "I rather think she has a thing for doctors." 

Merlin opened and closed his mouth. He shouldn't be surprised, but he was. And he was strangely annoyed on Arthur's behalf. "Right in front of you?" 

Arthur seemed unconcerned as he shrugged and made encouraging noises. When he rolled his shoulders though, starting to undo the massage, Merlin swatted the back of his head. "Stay still." Honestly, Arthur was just like a puppy sometimes. Merlin, unfortunately, had a soft spot for puppies. 

Steadily, he kneaded down the span of Arthur's shoulders and back up to the centre, over Arthur's nape. He was getting lost in the rhythm of the massage (and the heat between their skins) when Arthur spoke again. 

"Tell me something," Arthur tilted his head back. And Merlin tensed, imagining a host of difficult questions. But Arthur only asked, "Why is it okay for Gwaine to flirt with you but not for Vivian to flirt with the doctor? He was very fit, I'd have you know." 

Merlin stilled his hands over the tick-tick of a vein in Arthur's neck and spluttered down at him. "You think the doctor's fit?" 

Arthur caught his hand and laughed. "Out of all of that you got 'the doctor is fit'?" 

Merlin felt warm all over where Arthur's fingers laced over his. "Yes, well, _Gwaine_ \- Gwaine flirts with _everyone_ , in case you haven't noticed. Vivian only flirts with you and apparently the doctor. If she were more like Elena and Mithian who get all flirty with each other, then that'd be a different story." 

"Come again? About Elena and Mithian?" 

"Never mind that. So, how fit is this doctor?" Merlin tried to distract himself from how well his hand fit in Arthur's and how they were pressed almost palm to palm now. 

He could imagine Arthur rolling his eyes as he tugged Merlin down on the bench behind him. "You're such an idiot." 

"Yeah, I am for trying to help such a prat!" Merlin tried to get up again but Arthur only tugged harder so that Merlin's half-collapsed onto his back. 

"I missed you today," Arthur squeezed his hand. 

_Oh._ Merlin stared at the back of Arthur's head, which smelled so familiar, of his favourite shampoo. He did not at all want to bury his nose in Arthur's hair. Nope, he certainly did not. "The question is - did you miss me the day before yesterday?" He tried for a laugh but it came out aborted; it still hurt too much. 

Arthur held very still. "What if I said yes? Every day since that New Year's eve's eve." 

Merlin swallowed his smile, the bitter-sweetness of it. He didn't expect Arthur to actually answer him. And he didn't have an answer for Arthur. Words were just words, weren't they? Even when they were true. So instead, he took his hand back and put it on Arthur's neck. The knot wasn't completely undone. There was still work to do here. 

* 

Arthur knew he was breaking all sorts of rules by being in a part of the grounds that he wasn't officially supposed to be. But he had had enough of the day's events and didn't need yet _more_ pointers from Isolde and Tristan. When Lance told him about a spot he knew, Arthur pounced on it. 

Deep here in the gardens, he found silence, peace at last. And when Merlin came into view, looking moon pale and yet so striking, Arthur took it as yet another sign. They were meant to be together. They were, if the universe kept throwing them together like this. 

Now Merlin was touching him, hands like magic over the sore spots. Arthur felt better all over and he wanted - he wanted Merlin to stay. "Come to my room," he started. Only, this close up, Arthur could see the tint to Merlin's skin wasn't some colour play from the moonlight. It was exhaustion. The idiot had tired himself out somehow on a day of vacation. "What is wrong with you?" 

"What?" Merlin cried out, indignant. "What's... you know what? Maybe something _is_ very wrong with me since I keep trying to help you when you're just a giant clot pole!" 

"A _what_?" Arthur was too tired to figure that one out. Merlin was always creative with his insults. Arthur put up a hand in surrender. "Look, Merlin, just stop. I don't know how you managed it but you look absolutely knackered. Why don't we get you to bed?" 

Merlin looked at him like he'd grown two heads. His grin was disbelieving as he said, "If you think I'm going to bed with you after all that!" 

_Yes, yes, you are_ , a petulant voice in Arthur's head cried. "We'll see, won't we?" He said as calmly as he could manage. "I'd wager it will be soon. But not tonight. Tonight you need your rest." 

"Yes, your Highness. Whatever you say, _sire_ ," Merlin mock bowed to him. 

More than anything, the insolent sarcasm, so _Merlin_ , just made Arthur want to haul him up against a column of the pagoda and kiss him into submission. 

So he did, softening his lips as he opened his mouth over Merlin's. Merlin nipped him even as he grabbed the back of Arthur's neck, holding him there. 

_Idiot._ Like he needed to. Arthur pressed closer, crowding Merlin back against solid wood. He answered Merlin's sweep of tongue with his own, getting lost in the escalating heat. Moans flooded the space between them. Merlin pulled and gripped, octopus-limbed (it always felt like Merlin had eight) and long fingered, and Arthur was content to pull right back, winding Merlin up secure in his arms. 

In the end, it was Merlin who chased after his taste. Arthur couldn't help but smirk as he pulled back (with some difficulty). His own heart rate was nowhere near normal, not that Merlin needed to know that. 

"Good night," he cupped Merlin's face, relearning the cuts of cheekbone, the soft of skin and the rough of stubbles, before letting go. "Get some sleep." 

* 

Merlin slept badly, terribly. Arthur was a bloody tease. He had no right, no right at all to alternate the prat side of him with the sweetheart, driving Merlin up an absolute wall of frustration, want and confusion. 

He burrowed deeper into his blanket and tried to shade out the sun. It was too early after the late night he had. (Tripping back out of the maze of a garden after being manhandled by Arthur was something of a difficulty, as it turned out. As was trying to fall asleep with Arthur's "we'll see, won't we?" and "I'd wager soon" replaying in a loop in his head.) 

"Merlin." The voice was now familiar but no less surprising. Mordred didn't much speak if he could help it. 

God, _Mordred_. 

Merlin's brain caught up. He didn't want to deal with that either. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Nimueh got you tipsy on too many shots. You didn't mean to kiss me. It's fine," he said through the blanket. 

Mordred went silent for a beat. "I'm sorry, Merlin. _Please_ , you've got to believe me." 

"I believe you." Merlin said mostly so Mordred would go away. So he could sleep some more. 

But no such luck. Gwaine swept into the room and swept the blanket off like he was performing a magic trick. "And here we have Merlin, who I believe was out late last night. What d'you do? And who'd you do? Don't tell me you found Arthur's room." 

Merlin groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Nothing. No one. And no. Go away." 

Gwaine laughed, loud in his ears. "Sorry, no can do. You're wanted downstairs, princess. They're about to announce the challenge for today." 

"You can't just go around calling everyone princess, Gwaine. It's... unimaginative." 

Gwaine guffawed at that. "I suppose you're right, young wizard." 

Merlin groaned. Really, he just walked right into that one. "I hate you." 

"Nobody hates the Gwaine. Come on then, get that cute arse into some cute shorts. I predict the beach in your near future." 

"I predict a sick day." 

Still, Merlin heaved himself out of bed and into the closest loo. A shower and perhaps he would feel better. 

~~ 

Or perhaps not. Merlin inhaled the strong hit of saline from the ocean and felt inspiration slip. They were supposed to be building sand castles. The one with the best castle was to get alone time with Arthur. 

Perhaps that was it. Merlin wasn't sure he wanted any time alone with Arthur (and Lance and a camera). He wasn't sure what he would say, how much of a fool he would make of himself. 

Last night proved that he could well slip right back into love with Arthur. And Merlin wasn't sure his heart could take it. The first time was hard enough. 

He piled on another fistful of sand and continued building his dragon. This one was white as the beach and shaping up to be a beauty. He'd been building dragons in all shapes, sizes and colours since he was a child. His mother had said it was like they were kin to him. Sometimes Merlin felt that way. People didn't always understand him, understand what he could do, but dragons were magic themselves, of myths and legends, majestic. 

Kilgharrah, he'd named his first dragon. Once he even accidentally magicked it to talk to him. "Emrys," his sculpted Play-Doh had bowed to him, "it's your destiny as a Dragon Lord to continue our legacy. I believe in you, young warlock." 

Merlin had gawped in awe at the winged creature and followed its gaze to the toy shop across the way - Gaius' Toy Emporium. 

It was a sign; it was literally his calling. 

"That's... not a castle, _Mer_ lin." 

Merlin scalloped another scale onto his dragon and stubbornly ignored the face attached to that voice. He was _not_ going to get reeled in this time. Not that easily in any case. "Nope. It's a dragon," he said as he continued to work. 

"And what does a _dragon_ have to do with castles?" 

"Dungeons and dragons! When do they _not_ go together? And, this one, let me tell you. This one was unjustly chained in the basement of a castle - a dungeon - for a hundred years. When she escaped, she burnt the castle to the ground. And really, can you blame her? Now there's just dragon, no castle." 

"Cheerful stories you've got in your head there." Arthur's toes curled as he spoke. Merlin could see them clearly from this angle. He remembered just how they felt too, the rub of them across his toes, his sides, his back. And when Arthur's feet had angled like wings over his shoulders, he had felt invincible, felt loved. 

But those were the good times, Merlin tried to remind himself. Then there was the later. Later, when he had to watch Arthur with that girl Lamia playing couple. Later, when he had to pretend to be just a friend. 

Merlin looked from toes to claws and continued. "There was this pratty prince, you see. And he wasn't brave enough to stand up for what he wanted, what he believed was _right_ in front of his father, the king. So, what could have been a golden age instead burnt to ashes." 

With a scratch, he deepened a groove on his sculpture. When he heard no retort, Merlin chanced a look up. Arthur's face was shadowed against the sun, a stricken expression upon it. But as the camera panned to capture him, Arthur smiled as if the hurt never landed there. "Fascinating. Why don't you tell me more later?" 

Merlin hoped that wasn't what it sounded like. He swallowed as he watched Arthur move on to look at Sophia's castle. That monster structure was impressive. If Merlin had to guess, he'd say there was magic involved. There were just too many details - spiral staircases up into the tower? _really_? - for it to be shaped by bare hands and water over the half hour's time they had. 

_Good._ Merlin hoped Arthur picked her. Merlin hoped Arthur picked anyone but him. 

* 

Arthur felt wound up to say the least. Merlin looked a little better today, especially after sitting in the yacht for an hour and then on the beach for another half. But he was speaking in some twisted riddles. _Burnt to ashes._ Was that really how Merlin thought of their relationship? 

Arthur would phoenix it back if it killed him. And it might kill him indeed. He was going to ask Merlin to be his one-on-one date despite Tristan and Isolde's recommendations. 

_Stand up for what's right._ Arthur would do that. He wanted to. Especially if it meant more time with Merlin. 

He just hoped Merlin was up for it. Right now Merlin looked as if he wanted nothing more than to finish crafting his dragon and fly it away from here. 

~~ 

" _Merlin_? But he didn't even sculpt a _castle_." Isolde looked downright murderous, if eyes could kill. 

"Oh, but he did. The dragon burnt it down. It's all there in his story." Arthur stood his ground. _He_ was supposed to choose his favourite piece of sand art after all. 

"It's a very good sand dragon," Sefa remarked as she surveyed the work. "It's on the small side perhaps. But the scales and the shape of the eyeballs - it looks so real. Any minute now it will breathe fire - rargh!" 

Merlin's mouth twitched in a smile but he said nothing. 

"What about Sophia's masterpiece?" Tristan pointed to the elaborate turrets and the cobbled courtyard. 

"Yes!" Merlin chose that moment to pipe up. "That'd be _my_ pick as well. It's pretty magical." 

"Thanks." Sophia dimpled, not that Arthur was paying her much mind. He was too busy glaring a hole through Merlin's thick, thick skull, seeing as Merlin was refusing to meet his eyes. 

"You're both on then," he decided before Merlin could get in another word. "Can I have five minutes with each of them?" 

* 

Merlin stared at the far end of the beach. Arthur was there with Sophia first, because Merlin had insisted. "Really, after you." 

Now he regretted it. Really, he should have just gotten it over with. Everything was only as big a deal as you made it, his mother had always told him. And he was making too much of this 'date' with Arthur. It was just five minutes. 

Sophia was sure making the most of her time with Arthur. She was cupping his face and talking his ears off by the look of it. And Arthur was buying every word, if his body language was anything to judge by. He looked dazed, Arthur did, as he leaned in closer and closer. 

Still, when Arthur kissed her, Merlin was taken aback. The commotion within their little group at the sight was nothing compared to the commotion within his heart. It was happening all over again. 

Merlin looked away and rubbed more sunscreen over his arms. He wished there was such a thing as an Arthur screen. He'd buy it in bulk. _Off, damned love!_

~~ 

Merlin sat shoulder to shoulder with Arthur and looked out at the tides pulling and pulling at the lip of the beach. 

" _She_ kissed _me_ ," Arthur said again. "I just wanted to make that clear." 

Merlin blinked at him and grinned easily for the camera. "Sure, whatever you say." 

" _Merlin_." 

"You wanted to hear the rest of the story. So, here it is." Merlin dug into the sand with his toes and tried to anchor himself. He couldn't afford to be swept away by Arthur's charms again. He couldn't. "The dragon flew off and befriended a Dragon Lord. Together they found the last of the dragon eggs and brought forth the golden age of dragons. The end." 

Arthur frowned at him. "I don't get this metaphor." 

Merlin took a deep breath in, which in hindsight was probably a mistake because he could smell Arthur and the sea, and his tongue tingled with an urge to lick. "It's just a story, Arthur. There are no metaphors." 

Arthur pursed his lips in confusion. "Can you do a story with a metaphor then? Because I think I'm better at those." 

Merlin pushed Arthur off balance just because. The prat was supposed to be untrustworthy not adorable, damn it. "God, you're worse than a three year old at carpet time." 

"I wouldn't know. I never had carpet time, _Mer_ lin." Arthur pushed him back, sending him flat on his back. Right. How could Merlin forget how competitive Arthur was? _Life_ was a contact sport for Arthur. 

Merlin stared up at the clouds, at Arthur. Their positions reminded Merlin of another time, when clouds were the ceiling and sand was bed and Arthur was naked. 

"Merlin, are you alright?" 

Merlin blinked slowly, blushing. This was ridiculous. He wanted to never see Arthur again just two minutes ago and here he was blushing like an idiot under him. 

_Shit._ He was under Arthur. Merlin's skin heated some more as he realized how they must look to the others and to the camera. _Shit._

Arthur seemed to notice it at the same time and his eyes went shades darker. 

"You're blocking my sun," Merlin blurted before he could do something crazy, like encourage him. 

Arthur backed off easily, letting the rays hit him hot in the face. "Far be it from me to deprive you of sunlight." Arthur patted sand from his palms and rested the back of a hand on Merlin's cheek. "You do need all the help you can get." 

"Prat." Merlin swatted his hand off and sat up. He only got a second to collect himself before Arthur leaned in again, like magnet, and propped a shoulder up against his. "So, Merlin, how often do you spin the yarn for three-year-olds?" 

"Well, sometimes they're five. Or fifteen. But every day at Gaius' Toy Emporium." Merlin smiled. He couldn't lie, not about this. His new job was about the only thing that made his days after Arthur bearable. 

"You should come to the readings sometime. We cover everything from _Peter Pan_ to _Winnie the Pooh_ , _The Giving Tree_ to _The Little Prince_ to _Where the Wild Things Are_ , to all these tales about knights and dragons and magic." His smile widened as he thought about his little work family. "Freya's really good at acting out the voices. And Gaius is pretty good too. _Alice_ is the best though. She can make any story come alive. She's travelled everywhere and she's killer with accents. Don't even get me started on her Halloween special. She'll make you believe she's a creature of the dark, with eyes black as octopus ink. She's brilliant." 

"What about you? I bet you're brilliant, too." Arthur trailed a finger over Merlin's index finger, from knuckle to knuckle to knuckle to nail. It shouldn't have added to the heat of the sun but it did. 

Merlin looked out to the sea and shrugged. "Ah, I'm okay." He was casting his lashes down coy before he realised what he was doing. By then it was too late to un-flirt. 

"Bet you're better than okay, Mr. Emrys." Arthur looped an arm around his shoulder easily, like they've done many times before, watching films or just talking in the night time, when the dark made (some) secrets easier to divulge. "If memory serves, you've got killer accents too." 

"They are not terrible, I suppose," he said in his best mimic of Arthur's voice. 

Arthur's answering big belly laugh made him grin. He relaxed, leaned back against Arthur. It was as easy as it was for the sea to kiss the sand. 

As inevitable too. 

* 

Arthur couldn't seem to recall his five minutes with Sophia. How the kiss happened was beyond him. He'd rather thought Gwen the most likely of the girls that he'd snog. Not that he would with Merlin in the picture. But if he had to, for the sake of the show or some such, he was sure he'd choose Gwen. Sophia was pleasant on the eyes, sure, but he couldn't name a single thing about her that set her apart. _She_ must have kissed him. Yes, that had to be it. That was the only thing that made sense. 

Whatever the case, Merlin didn't seem much convinced. He turned his head just as Arthur aimed for a parting kiss. Arthur got air (the clean smell of Merlin's soap and aftershave) and sucked in said air to say, "Why yes, a hug sounds great, Merlin." 

Merlin gave him this _look_ but lifted an arm to loop around his shoulder. Really, he thought he was getting away with a lousy one-armed hug? Arthur looped both arms firmly around Merlin's lower back and pressed him close. Merlin went into it easily enough, even if he did inhale sharply and flail about before settling both of his arms around Arthur too. 

Merlin's breathing sounded loud, almost harsh, this close up. Every breath he took felt a small earthquake against Arthur's chest. Arthur missed this, missed pushing into Merlin and feeling connected to everything Merlin was doing - breathing, shaking, coming, coming apart. 

He allowed himself the small luxury of touch, cheek against Merlin's cheek, chin tucked into Merlin's shoulder. He squeezed Merlin once more before letting go. These five minutes, or six if you counted the hug, he remembered in detail. He knew now where Merlin worked. Arthur had looked for _months_ in different coffee shops after Merlin left (even though none of those shops came with clever marquees), but it figured that Merlin got his dream job after leaving Arthur. 

"Was I holding you back?" He thought to ask as Merlin turned to leave. 

"What?" 

"Toy design, Merlin. That was your dream. Was I holding you back?" 

" _Arthur_." Merlin reached out warmly, seemed to have forgotten about the cameras for once, and patted Arthur's chest the way he used to do. "You played with everything I made. You even played with malfunctioning Smaug." 

And Arthur had to chuckle. Yes, he remembered that little toy. It spat fire from its ears and burnt its own hair. It was Merlin's bane for many sleepless nights. 

"No, okay? You- you helped really. Your work frustration weren't unlike mine, Arthur. I knew I had to stop playing around in coffee shops and take a real chance. So I did. I made my resolutions." With one last pat, Merlin left to join the rest of the group on the yacht. 

Arthur stared blindly into the ocean. This was one of their old arguments. Merlin would tell him his dreams murmured into the dark didn't have to be murmurs, didn't have to be dreams. And Arthur would stay stubbornly silent. More than anything in the world, he wanted to finally accomplish that one elusive task to make his father proud of him. 

Merlin didn't have a father. Moreover, Merlin didn't have a father to hold him to expectations. So, he couldn't possibly be expected to understand why Arthur couldn't just do things that made _himself_ proud. 

Arthur explained all this to Morgana once, quite expecting her to sympathise. But she'd only patted his cheek affectionately and called him an idiot. Which was _not_ at all the same thing. 

~~ 

Arthur found it quite easy to choose two to eliminate for the second rose ceremony. "Elaine and Sophia." 

"Are you _sure_?" Tristan frowned at him. "You kissed Sophia." 

"No, she kissed me." 

"Semantics," Isolde waved a hand, dismissive. "The audience is not going to be very sympathetic to you if you kick her off now." 

_I don't care_ , Arthur stubbornly thought. "But she -" 

"What about Kara?" Tristan jumped in to help. "You can say you don't feel you two have anything in common. You have hardly interacted." 

Arthur looked helplessly at the pile of photos. _I just want Merlin_. "If you really think that would work better." 

"Perfect! So, Elaine and Kara it is then." 

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face. Elaine was at least his choice. She was no better today the way she sabotaged Sefa's sand castle by stepping in it. Her 'oops' sounded the opposite of sincere, especially when paired with a laugh. Arthur would be happy to see her go. 

Mostly though Arthur just wanted to give Merlin his rose. 

* 

Merlin gawked as Arthur plucked the inner petals from his rose. "Why are you killing it?" 

"I'm not killing it, idiot. I'm..." 

Merlin got it as the shape finally took. "...making a tulip." 

"There. Will you accept this... thing?" 

Merlin willed his lips to stop smiling, but he was overruled. "I will accept this... thing." 

"Good." 

When Arthur moved to kiss his cheek, Merlin didn't move away. One might even say he leaned in. 

_Maybe this time,_ his magic sang, warm and tingly down his spine. 


	4. The Mark

Arthur had a good night, even with Gwaine asking for his special-shaped rose too. "Can you make mine a wine cup?" 

Percy had cracked open a laugh, booming. There was such joy in his face that it made Arthur smile. He knew the camera was zeroing in on his expression and making too much of it, but for once he didn't mind. Merlin liked him again and Percy liked Gwaine and Elaine was going home. Life was good. 

Well, life here in this artificial seclusion. Life out there, back in London, was another matter. Arthur couldn't stop thinking about what Merlin said earlier in the day or how once upon a time Morgana had taken Merlin's side. 

His thumb hovered over her picture in his contact list. It was an old photo, taken when Morgana was thirteen and had decided she was queen. Her crown and regal tilt of chin was forever how Arthur thought of her - my big sister who knew the answer to everything (even if she could be a bit of a tyrant). 

Arthur pressed his thumb down. 

Morgana kept him waiting as usual. But on the fifth ring, her voice came through, shockingly immediate the way that she had to all of the sudden be in your face, her bright green eyes all you could see and seeing all. 

"So soon?" 

"What's soon? What are you on about, Morgana?" 

"You tell me, Arthur. You rang." 

Arthur rolled his eyes. This was typical Morgana with her usual blend of bossy and mysterious. "So, Merlin, my-" 

"-secret lover-" 

"-ex is here. Do you remember when we had that giant row after Christmas?" 

"When you were an idiot?" 

" _Morgana_." 

" _Arthur_." 

"You really think he had a point? I know the 'in' thing to say these days is to follow your dreams and damn the consequences. But you know father." 

"I do." 

"So, you see my side? Tell me you do." 

"I do," Morgana sighed. "I do but I also think it's horrifically self-sacrificing. You love Uther more than he loves you, Arthur, and that's never going to change." 

Arthur flinched. Perhaps he suspected this on some level but it was never put into words before. 

"Arthur," Morgana's words were softer now, kinder. "You are a good man and an extraordinary son. But perhaps it's time for you to think about being a good son and an extraordinary man." 

Arthur clutched the phone hard. Sometimes he wished he were more like Morgana. She was fearless and always laid claim to her right to make her own mistakes and forge her own path. He both loved and envied her. "You're an okay sister," he finally said. 

Morgana snorted. "Well, better than you are as a brother in any case. You rang when I was in the middle of a snog, a _really_ good one too. He's got _hands_ to die for." 

"Ew, Morgana. TMI. We've _talked_ about this." But Arthur was feeling better, lighter, even if their whole conversation amounted to Morgana calling him an idiot _again_. 

* 

Merlin loosened the scarf around his neck. He couldn't believe he actually missed the mist and gray of England but he did. It was too bright here between the sun and the camera lights. But at least the food was better, he had to admit. 

All fourteen of them, Arthur included, were seated around the biggest round picnic table Merlin had ever seen. There was champagne and drinks aplenty, lots of little plates of cheeses and breads, biscuits and fruits and cold cuts. To his right sat Gwen and to his left Daegal, so Merlin couldn't complain. He was at least in good company. 

Straight across from him, however, was Arthur. And beyond Arthur was the little pagoda where they had met two nights ago. Merlin still recalled the heat of Arthur's body pressed up against his. He still recalled the little indentation of a blunt nail head against his back as they kissed. He recalled too, Arthur's promise to take him to bed soon. These thoughts made him blush between swallows, and he cast his eyes down to his plate before he gave too much away. 

It would seem he was too late though. The easy conversation about guilty pleasure television shows trailed off and Nimueh cleared her throat. "I have a proposal to make," she started, her eyes darting mischievously around to catch Mordred's and then Merlin's and then Arthur's eyes. 

Arthur frowned but humoured her all the same. "Let's hear it." 

"I propose we play a game, to learn more about each other," she lifted her drink. "Has everyone here heard of 'Never Have I Ever'?" 

Merlin breathed out. He was half afraid she was going to say 'Spin the Bottle' or 'Truth or Dare' or even 'Seven Minutes in Heaven'. But this he could handle. Probably. 

"I think that was a yes. Why don't you start, Nimueh?" Arthur nodded at her. 

"Thank you, Arthur. I will." She tapped a finger at her lips and then brightened. "Never have I ever kissed a girl." 

Most everyone took a drink around the table. The only exceptions were Vivian, Sophia, Elena and Gilli. Merlin looked at Gwen in surprise. 

"I was curious. Shut up. What's _your_ excuse?" 

Merlin shrugged. He liked women too but this group didn't have to know. " _She_ was curious?" 

"Who wouldn't be?" Gwaine grinned, lips wet with drink. 

Arthur cleared his throat. "Never have I ever," he said quickly, "been to a petting zoo." 

Everybody drank. "Alright, that's it!" Elena declared, "That's your next date, Arthur. I don't even care who you go with but you need to go pet a goat or a rabbit or a horse." 

"Or me!" Gwaine piped up. 

Percy coughed and went next. "Never have I ever sang outside of showers." 

"Oh, we need to fix that," Gwaine said as he had another drink. "Karaoke night!" 

Half the circle joined him in drinking, including Merlin. Arthur's hands, however, didn't budge from where they gripped his glass. Merlin thought about changing that too. Arthur had a decent voice, he knew. Merlin had caught him humming under his breath before, when he was in a particularly good mood. That was Merlin's favourite kind of Arthur - joyful Arthur. (Well, right after take charge Arthur, who was sexy as hell.) 

"Never have I ever," Gwaine's slow syllables broke through Merlin's train of thought, "cheated on anyone." 

A few eyebrows went up but no one drank. No one that was, until Mordred tentatively raised his cup. "It was the year before university. I was in the closet. And I-I knew it was wrong but I was desperate to be loved _and_ accepted. I got pissed and kissed a boy that I fancied at prom. It was brilliant for a moment but then my girlfriend at the time caught us." 

After a moment of silence - this was, after all, the most words any of them have heard Mordred say at once - Mithian squeezed his shoulder kindly and Arthur gave him a nod. "That's brave of you to admit, Mordred." Arthur's eyes were inscrutable. "Admitting our mistakes is the first step to fixing them." 

Mordred gave Arthur a tentative smile that blossomed to brilliant. Yeah, looking at him, Merlin definitely understood why Arthur might feel drawn to the boy. Merlin tamped down on a little flutter of jealousy. 

"Well," Elena pulled on the string around the neck of her shirt, to the left and then right, left and then right, in a nervous tic. "Here goes. Never have I ever kissed anyone." 

Everyone raised their glasses to their lips. Merlin caught sight of Mithian's hand rubbing reassuringly over Elena's back, until Elena calmed and stopped tugging on the cord of her shirt. 

Of course, that was when Gwaine leaned in. "If you ever wanted to practise..." 

"Oh my god, Gwaine," Elena shoved him away, half onto Percy's lap. "I don't think you understand what we're all doing here." 

"Au contraire, my fair lady." Gwaine righted himself and shot a grin Arthur's way. "I'm simply a firm believer in practise makes perfect." 

"Then you must be the most perfect of us all, sir Gwaine." Mithian said wryly. She paused before admitting, "Never have I ever told my family that I'm bi." 

Elena squeezed Mithian's arm this time around in support. Merlin's attention, however, was quickly drawn across to Arthur taking a drink. When was _this_? Merlin knew Morgana knew about Arthur. But Uther, too? This must have been after they broke up. Merlin had quite thought Uther was going to get the shock of his life when the show aired. But perhaps not? Did Uther also know about him and Arthur then? Surely not? 

He started when Gwen nudged his arm. "What?" 

"Mordred said he'd never kissed Arthur." _And I know you have_ , her rounded eyes said. And yes, alright, Merlin might have mentioned it on that first night of mingling in the mansion. (But only because he was two pints beyond tipsy. And because Gwen wouldn't buy anything but the truth of how he knew Arthur from before.) 

"Oh," Merlin looked around to find Sophia smiling over her glass and automatically lifted his. Briefly he wondered how many more would join them before the end of the show. And then he stopped thinking. That way lay madness. 

Gwen licked her lips and stared at the middle of the table where the strawberries were. "Never have I ever been in love," she confessed. "And I've never said it either. And I won't, not until I really am." She looked up at Lance filming over Arthur's shoulder and looked away, her cheeks staining red. 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, then his drink. Looking across, he locked eyes with Arthur, who was also drinking. During their year together, Arthur never once said 'I love you'. Neither of them had. Merlin got close to it a few times, but he'd come up with a new insult each time instead: cabbage head, prat face, dollop head. Those were easier to say and meant about the same. 

Arthur had his own set of substitutes - idiot, clumsy idiot, clumsy idiot with four elbows. (Hey, no one ever accused Arthur of creativity in this area.) But Merlin knew what he meant. Besides, Arthur was a man of action. When he brought the first two tulips to their first date, when he played with Merlin's dragon action figures and threw out ideas to make them 'even more brilliant', when he tried so very hard to make an edible breakfast in bed for Merlin... well, Merlin knew. Love (the lack of) never was their problem. 

Gwen nudged him again. "Your turn." 

Merlin blinked and said the first thing that came to mind. "Erm, never have I ever been kidnapped." He didn't miss how Arthur frowned at him with a silent, if fond, whisper of 'idiot' in his eyes. 

Much to Merlin's surprise, Percy lifted his glass. "Believe it or not, I was not always this big. After my parents passed away, I went into the foster system with my siblings. We were separated for a time, and I tried looking for them on my own once after school. 'Course, I got straight into trouble, got myself kidnapped within the hour. After my foster parents paid my ransom, I realised three things - they loved me; they were my parents now. I was never going to run away again. And I needed to learn to defend myself." 

"Karate?" Gwaine stole a grape from Percy's plate. 

"And boxing and wrestling and fencing." Percy subtly moved his plate away from Gwaine. 

"I fence, too!" Gwaine slapped him on the back, and reached over to steal two more grapes. "Foil, sabre, epée, what?" 

Percy scooped up a handful of grapes from his plate for safekeeping. "Sabre, of course." 

"Of course." Gwaine (and the rest of the table) watched as Percy held the grapes in his cheek pockets for a moment before downing them in one large swallow. Gwaine gulped visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing. 

"Arthur fences, too," Merlin offered. "He was champion all through school." 

"Wait, you're _that_ Pendragon?" Mordred piped up. "Your techniques are legendary." 

"Ah, so you _are_ tall sword," Gwaine grinned wide. 

Arthur looked utterly, adorably confused, but the rest of them all got it and groaned. Gilli choked again, this time on bread. 

Merlin nudged Daegal. 

"Oh, erm. I guess it's my turn?" Daegal cracked one of his fingers as he thought. "Never have I ever been to another continent." 

As most of the circle drank, Arthur asked him in earnest, "Where would you want to go? If you could pick anywhere, any place at all today, where would you rather be?" 

"Asia," Daegal's answer was immediate, "for the food if nothing else. And I'm a climber. I'd love to scale the Himalayas one day." 

Merlin looked at Daegal's wistful expression and across at Arthur, and he just knew that Arthur was already planning the trip. Whatever else he was, Arthur got things done. He was considerate, not to mention efficient, like that. 

"This is going to sound silly," Sefa started, "but never have I ever _not_ sent Christmas cards. I love them - all sorts of cards really. I miss the days of snail mail. I think I would have loved the olden days when people sealed their correspondences with wax and had them delivered by crows or pigeons or something." 

Merlin chuckled at the image. "At least you didn't say _owls_." 

"Right?" Sefa joined in a laugh. "Dear Hogwarts, yes, yes, I accept!" 

Around the table, quite a few laughed and a few drank. "Not that kind of religious," Nimueh remarked cryptically. 

Gilli went next. "Never have I ever won anything." 

"Oh, the rest of us are out of luck then," Mithian toasted him. "Beginner's luck and all." 

Merlin shot a smile her way. He was loving her more by the hour, even if she was wrong as wrong could be. He sneaked a look at Arthur. But Arthur wasn't looking at anyone. His eyes were cast down, inspecting his plate very, very thoroughly. 

For the first time, Merlin felt a small niggling of doubt that Arthur might not choose him in the end, despite what he might say, how much he might be wooing him when they were alone. There were such great people around the table after all, and Arthur was supposed to be wooing them all. 

"Never have I ever," Vivian cleared her throat, "broken any bones." 

A surprising number of glasses were raised. Elena in particular seemed quite proud of her injury. Merlin looked over at Arthur and thought _ribs_. He knew exactly where and the precise slant of the scar. It ran thin, like the small trail of a snail, sliding shallow under his heart. Merlin had spent a lot of time there, touching, memorising, praising the gods for the opponent's bad aim. 

"Never have I ever," Sophia finished off the first round of the game, "had a tattoo." 

Merlin ignored Arthur's choking sounds from across the table and calmly drank. Yes, he got his about a year after Arthur was gone from his life. And despite what that annoying little voice in the back of his head insisted, his mark of dragon had nothing to do with _Pen_ dragon. Dragon Lord, he'd told himself. That was what it stood for and _only_ that. 

Yes, only that. 

* 

Arthur felt put under a microscope the longer the game went on. At first the questions were innocent enough, but by the second round there were questions better served in the privacy of the bedroom. Or well, not out in a sunny garden, in any case, with wide-angled cameras recording every word. 

Really? Never have I ever slept with anyone around this table? It was bad enough that Arthur had been imagining the where and what of Merlin's tattoo and itching to look, to touch. But must the group go _there_ , where he couldn't help but imagine Merlin spread, gasping and arching, over or under, all over him? 

Granted, at this point of the game most around the table were pissed and not making the most sound of decisions. Mithian's head hovered like the Tower of Pisa for the longest while before it simply fell, slotted snug into the crook of Elena's neck. Elena meanwhile was dropping food into her cleavage, and clearly not by design as she made the most distressed of noises as she fished out the crumbs. Gilli was disturbingly happy, declaring his love for everything. Sefa, along with many others, was laughing overly loud. For some reason, she was also petting Daegal's (admittedly soft looking) hair and trying to braid it, pixie-short though it was. 

Mordred and Nimueh seemed set on outdoing one another at posing outrageous questions. Nimueh spewed some nonsense about magic and never having the opportunity to perform it in life and death situations. Merlin's eyes rounded at that. Another time perhaps Arthur would have found it amusing. Merlin did make the most ridiculous of faces (it was part of his charm). 

But right now it was the last straw. Arthur spared a worried look for him. Merlin never was one to hold his liquor. 

"Alright, everyone," Arthur tapped his glass with a tiny fork. "This has been a most informative game. Thank you, Nimueh. I think we have all learned quite a lot about each other. But I see some of you around the table are growing restless, and it looks like all of us are now full. Shall we reconvene tomorrow at the rose ceremony?" 

"But we haven't had our tug of war," Gilli said. "I love tugs of war! Weren't the winning team meant to have a private chat with you in the hot tub? I love hot tubs!" 

Arthur groaned inwardly. Right. He had conveniently forgotten about this part of the schedule. "Anyone up for a tug of war?" 

Apparently everyone was. Arthur was quite surprised at the enthusiasm. They were literally falling over each other getting to the rope. 

"Wait, who's on which side?" Gwen, who had been sipping instead of gulping her drink, asked quite sensibly. "And how are you going to split us up fairly with thirteen of us and two teams?" 

"We could borrow Lance, couldn't we?" Arthur looked at Tristan and Isolde and hoped they were on board. 

"I'd be happy to help." Lance stepped up as Arthur knew he would. 

"That's settled then." Isolde called out team one as she drew random names out of a hat. "Everyone else, line up to my right." 

Tristan blew his whistle and the war began. 

It was a short one, easily settled as the winning team cheered and fell back on the grass. Arthur wasn't surprised that Percy and Gwaine's group won by a good tug and a half. 

That Merlin was in the same group made Arthur smile all the way back to his room. 

~~ 

The thing about Merlin's tattoo was that it wasn't anywhere that Arthur could _see_. And Merlin, currently leaned back in the hot tub one body over to his left, was shirtless, scarfless and mostly exposed. Arthur tried not to fidget, tried to keep his attention on the threads of conversation in this, a much smaller circle. 

_Merlin's tattoo though._ Arthur catalogued what not seeing meant. It wasn't on his arms or the arc of his neck. It wasn't on his slant of chest or the dip of his back. It wasn't on his calves or on his feet. The sodding thing had to be hidden somewhere behind the modest span of cloth that Arthur was coming to loath (however well the black piece moulded to Merlin's shape). 

The tattoo was perhaps on the small of his back, the dip of his hip bones, on or _around_ an upper thigh, underneath an arse cheek? _On_ an arse cheek? Arthur swallowed hard and tried to think of rats and _eating_ rats and other such unpleasant thoughts. 

He counted it a win when he was present enough to catch Elena's question about swimming and whether he had a favourite style. "Oh, the butterfly, no question." Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Merlin's smile. Merlin always did have a fondness for winged creatures. Half of the toys he made had the ability to fly. 

Arthur wondered whether his tattoo was of a butterfly. Or some other creature perhaps. Or words. But then _which_ words? 

Stupid swim trunks. 

* 

Merlin didn't often indulge like this. His and Will's flat had the tiniest shower imaginable. So it'd been years since he'd last soaked in a big tub like this. The bubbly warm water lifted tension from his body and made his magic want to dance. Bliss this was. Not to mention Arthur was an arm's length away and sat like a king with his regal posture and ridiculous pecs. 

Arthur's face looked pinched, however, even in the soft glow of the candlelight. Merlin had no earthly idea why. Perhaps it was the candles themselves. There were many - a fire hazard amount of them - flickering all around them, to advertise the romance of the situation or some such. Merlin found it kind of funny, given that they were seven to the tub and talking about fish and chips at the moment. (Gwaine was missing them something fierce. Him and his pub fares.) 

Merlin let the conversation wash over him, the overlaps of voices an almost lullaby. He was on the edge of drifting off when out of nowhere Gwaine clapped his hands sharp like a whip and said, "You know what would have been a great never have I ever question? 'Never have I ever skinny dipped!' Because I certainly have, and I want to know who I need to take skinny dipping for the experience of it." 

" _Gwaine_ ," Arthur sounded pained, "it's not that kind of show." 

"You should see your face, Princess." Gwaine grinned at him then turned to wink at Merlin. 

Merlin blinked at that, completely befuddled. While it was true that Arthur still looked like he was thinking too hard and was stealing glances at Merlin when he thought Merlin wasn't looking, what skinny dipping had to do with it all Merlin didn't understand. As he tried to wrap his head around it, Sophia piped up to say, "I rather think of Arthur as a _prince_." 

" _Thank you_ , Sophia." 

"Is it in his kiss, then?" Gwaine draped an arm behind Arthur and one behind Merlin. "What do you think, Merlin? Will our opinion of the princess change after a smooch?" 

It had to be the residual alcohol in his system because Merlin's lips moved without once consulting his brain. "Mine did." 

Gwaine guffawed, his Adam's apple a miniature mountain bobbing lights and shadows. "Now I need to know. What did you think before and what did you think after?" 

Merlin locked eyes with Arthur. "Before, I thought he was a prat. After, I thought he was a prat who could kiss." 

Arthur glared at him. 

Merlin shot him a grin, and got an eye roll in response. 

"So, kisses are nice and all but," Gwen interjected from Merlin's other side, "I was curious... Arthur, have you ever given any thoughts to children? Having them, that is. Do you want any or does that not interest you? Of course, I think families come in all numbers and are families regardless, but I was just wondering. Forgive me if this is too forward." 

Arthur regarded her seriously. "No, not forward at all. That's a very valid question. And..." he trailed off, looking pensive. Merlin felt his heart hammer in his chest. He would like to know as well. They had never gotten around to this topic before. "Yes, I think so." Arthur smiled a little smile. "Perhaps not straight away but yes, I do." 

"How many? Do they have to be your own?" Gwaine asked. 

"I'd be lucky to have _one_ , so I'd start there. But I -" Arthur looked straight into the camera. "Morgana - do turn away now. This next part's not for your ears." He paused, toying with the ring on his finger, the one Merlin knew to be his mother's. "But I have a sister and I don't know what I would do without her. So, ideally, I'd like two so they would have the sibling experience as well." 

Gwen's eyes softened as she smiled. Merlin thought she looked particularly beautiful tonight, with her curls piled high and the candle glow draped over her freckles and the slender curvature of her shoulders. He looked up and caught Arthur sharing her smile and felt almost an intruder. 

"As for being my own or not -" Arthur held Percy's eyes steadily. "It doesn't matter, does it? Either way, they'd be my children and I'd love them." 

"Hear, hear," Percy's voice just barely cracked. 

Merlin looked down at his hands and thought about the possibility of a ring there on his finger from Arthur. He didn't need Arthur to answer as perfectly as he had. Merlin had always wanted two kids as well - a boy and a girl. He would create lines of toys especially for each of them. And he would never leave them. 

Never. 

* 

Arthur felt like he had learned more about everyone in a single _day_ than he had in _months_ of dating some of his previous girlfriends. But that was what the show was, he supposed. It was a bit like speed dating except with more roses and more alcohol. 

And more face-to-face rejection. He ran a hand over his jaw and stared at the pile of photographs. 

"So," Tristan was saying, "you had two intense dates today, Arthur. And now it's once again time to narrow down the pool of candidates by two." 

Arthur felt a knot at the base of his stomach. He didn't want to do this part at all. He never was good at this sort of things. When he had to fire familiar faces, he always had a shot of vodka beforehand and more afterwards. 

He supposed in that respect, this process wasn't much different. 

"Suppose I just throw a dart and see where it lands?" He wasn't even much joking either. He felt a camaraderie with the group left that he didn't want it to shatter, as selfish as that was. 

Isolde squeezed his arm. "How about we do two piles - one definitely keeps and one maybes - and start from there. How's that?" 

"All right." Arthur picked up Merlin, Gwen, and Percy's headshots in one easy scoop and said, "definitely." He reached for Mithian, Mordred, Sefa and Elena's photos and put them in that pile as well. His hand hovered over Gwaine's picture. _For Percy_ , he thought, as he dumped Gwaine in the same group. He thought about Gilli's confession that he'd never won anything and about Daegal's that he'd never been to another continent and put them in the definitely pile too. 

That left Vivian, Nimueh and Sophia. Arthur took a step back and looked to Isolde and Tristan. "Darts?" 

~~ 

After too many iterations, the selection was finally done. Arthur couldn't say he was happy exactly but he wasn't unhappy either. It was done. He was one more elimination closer to getting Merlin alone. 

All throughout the drinking game, Arthur had caught Merlin's eyes slipping past him to rest on the pagoda, the place of their rendezvous a couple of nights ago. It was perhaps why he found himself coming out here now. For a breather, he told himself. That was all. Merlin was probably not even here. He had no idea what shenanigans the contestants got up to after their time with him. Perhaps sleep, perhaps karaoke. Percy mentioned one and Gwaine the other as the hot tub date came to an end. 

"Arthur. Fancy meeting you here." 

The voice was not the one Arthur expected. "Nimueh." He ran a hand over his hair, which was still a little wet. "What are you doing here?" 

"Same thing you are, I'd wager." She paused dramatically as she took a turn around the pagoda. "Taking a breather." 

Arthur bit his upper lip. Nimueh was someone he couldn't figure out. She seemed more detached than the others, like she was watching a show instead of participating in one. Out of everyone, he felt he knew her the least. "So." 

"So," she stood there and regarded him with her steady, wide eyes, "I have a question. About Merlin." 

"Merlin?" This Arthur didn't expect. He looked around, hoping Merlin would materialise out of thin air. "I'm afraid I don't know where he is." 

Nimueh laughed. "Oh, you _are_ adorable." She shook her head. "No, I'm not looking for him. The question is for you, Arthur." 

Arthur waited. He may not like playing these games but he knew how. And he knew the less he said right now, the better his chance of gaining the upper hand. 

Nimueh quirked her lips and looked at him like she knew his plan and was humouring him all the same. "I gathered from Gwen that you used to date our Merlin." 

Arthur didn't deny it. 

"Do you know about his abilities?" 

"Abilities." Arthur repeated her word, his tone flat. He had no idea what she was getting at. 

"Magical," she said. 

Arthur raised his eyebrows. Ah, so they were back to this again. "He's," Arthur struggled for something appropriate to say, which ruled out _pretty brilliant at blowjobs_ and _shoulder rubs_ and _making me laugh_. "He's pretty magic with dragons." 

"Yes," Nimueh smiled her cryptic full-lipped smile. "That's part of it." 

Arthur didn't follow. He supposed he could say something about the dragonflies and butterflies that Merlin was also fond of making, but somehow he didn't think that was what Nimueh meant. 

"Vivian the other day," she veered off on a tangent. "That was a close call, wouldn't you say?" 

"Yes," Arthur said slowly, unsure where she was going with this. He looked around the dark at the smooth trimmed hedges and the wiry dance of flower beds and once again wished for Merlin. 

This time, however, his wish was granted. "Arthur?" Merlin stepped out of the shadows like a godsend. "Nimueh!" He looked between them with wide eyes. "I'm not... interrupting, am I?" 

"No," Arthur said just as Nimueh said, "Emrys." 

"So." Merlin scratched at the side of his face, long fingers casting even longer shadows on his cheek as he came to a stop between them. "Gwaine is playing his guitar and I don't have any ear plugs." 

"That bad?" Arthur couldn't help a smile. 

"That _loud_ ," Merlin corrected. "He's actually quite good." Merlin sat and fidgeted against the pole. 

Arthur looked away and knocked his ring against his side. Right. This wasn't awkward at all, wanting to strip down his ex while one of the girls he was sending home tomorrow looked on. 

Nimueh must have read his mind (or at least his posture). Abruptly, she bid them goodnight. As she passed by Merlin, however, she paused and made an odd request. "Tell him, Emrys, or better yet show him. Magic will fade further otherwise. All that's left untended wither away." She looked sad and much older for a moment as she seemed to flicker. 

Then the strangest thing happened. She disappeared. 

"Whoa! Wha-? She just-! Did you see that? Merlin!" 

Merlin dipped his head low. "She's magic," he muttered to himself. "No wonder." 

Arthur shook his head, uncomprehending. "She's a magician?" That made sense, he supposed, although Arthur had certainly never seen magic that grand before. 

"Well, no," Merlin started. And then his face scrunched up. "Well, maybe..." 

"That's clear." Arthur couldn't help but huff. 

"I don't know, okay? Sometimes some are." Merlin ran his hands over his hair, making the strands stand up on ends, distracting, frustrating. 

"Sometimes some of whom are _what_?" 

"Some of the magical community goes into the magic business." Merlin explained, being clear as mud. "It's cheating perhaps, but one can argue that capitalizing on one's natural abilities is exactly what athletes do. So, if you think about it, it's really not." 

" _Merlin_ ," Arthur sighed, exasperated. "What are you saying? Magicians are like athletes? Oh, oh! Don't tell me. They do pull-ups with bunny ears!" 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Will you stop being a git for a minute? I'm trying to tell you something." 

"Then tell me! While you're at it, tell me where you've hidden that blasted tattoo." 

Merlin's face paused then turned a fascinating burn of expressions - blue-sad one moment then red-blushed the next, then golden, golden. His eyes were molten. Merlin pushed out a palm and whispered something earthy and guttural, incomprehensible. 

Immediately between them materialised an impossible figurine weaved of fire, delicate, beautiful - a dragon with its wings outstretched. 

Slowly, carefully, Arthur reached out to touch. It didn't burn but felt warm, like there was an invisible buffer between his hand and the fire. "Are you a magician, too? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" 

* 

Merlin sighed. Of course Arthur would be difficult about this. He turned his palm and concentrated. With a shimmer, the curve of his back took shape under the dragon. "My tattoo," he said by way of explanation. "You wanted to know. And Nimueh is right. There isn't much magic left in this world. Real magic, not sleights of hand." 

Arthur curved a hand down around Merlin's magic-hip, making Merlin real-gulp. "What's _real_ magic?" 

Merlin thought about possibly turning Arthur into a donkey. But then Merlin thought about coming face to face with the cutest ass in the world. He called upon the elements instead. 

As a small funnel of wind formed, throwing the flowers into a tizzy around them, comprehension finally dawned in Arthur's eyes. "You have _magic-magic_." 

"Now he gets it." Merlin smiled tentatively. "But yes, I was born with it. Apparently my father had magic. Mum doesn't and she's tried to tell me what she knows, but she just doesn't know. It was as much a shock to her when I first started floating biscuits into my bowl and toys into my-" 

"What you're saying is we could have magical babies." 

Merlin started. "Er, I don't - I don't know. Wait, who says I want your bratty babies anyway?" 

"Why didn't you tell me?" God help him but Arthur looked really hurt, like there was a knife in his back kind of hurt. 

"Babies never came up in our conver-" 

"Merlin!" 

Merlin bit his lips and stilled the wind although stirring it up would better suit his mood. "I've _never_ told _anyone_. Mum found out because-" 

"Biscuits, toys, yes. You've said. Do you not trust me?" 

"Arthur." Merlin stepped forward. Arthur stepped back. Merlin swallowed. So this was how it was going to be. "You don't know what happens to those who are found out. We're discredited, thrown in the loony bin or else used like some science experiment." 

"I would _never-_ " 

"No, not you, but your family and friends. You'd have to lie to them. I didn't want to put you in that position." 

Arthur laughed, humourless. "Yes, because I wasn't lying to them at all. About you." 

"I-" 

"I guess we were the both of us keeping secrets then. Except I told you mine." 

Merlin flinched before anger bloomed, quick and sharp. "No, that's not fair. I _was_ your secret, Arthur. That's different." 

Arthur deflated visibly. "I'm sorry. Merlin, I-" 

"Me too." Merlin worried his lips. 

"Can we," Arthur moved towards him, tentative. "Merlin, can we start over?" 

"Third time's the charm?" 

Arthur gave him a small smile and a nod. 

"So, does that mean I-" Merlin yawned around the word, "-get a rose tomorrow?" 

Arthur answered him with a kiss, a perfect suction over his lower lip. "All right. Good night, Merlin." 

Merlin took all of two seconds to decide. He moved into Arthur's path. "Wait. I want to show you something." And he smiled just thinking about it. It would serve Arthur right to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

With eyes steady on Arthur's, Merlin thumbed down the back of his trousers, revealing his mark - a proud gold dragon. 


	5. The Fever

Arthur couldn't sleep no matter how much he turned in this now familiar bed. _Merlin_. Merlin's _tattoo_. It was a dragon in profile, with its wings outstretched. It was situated in the centre of Merlin's lower back and about the size of a palm. 

Not that Arthur got to put his palm there. Not that Merlin gave him a chance at all to touch before teleporting himself off somewhere the way Nimueh had done. 

God. Arthur had half hoped Merlin ended up here, in his bedroom, preferably wearing nothing but his scarf. But no. There were barely echoes here, just shadows and hastily discarded pyjamas from this morning, no Merlin. 

Arthur groaned as he turned again, getting his legs tangled up in sheets. He couldn't (and didn't want to) unsee it. It was one thing to look at a magical imprint of the tattoo, but it was quite another to witness it in the flesh. 

For one thing, the real tattoo looked like it was alive. It shimmered, or something. Arthur was sure of it. For another, Merlin was sexier than his self-molded image. Arthur hoped that one day he would get to show Merlin this, show him how lovely he really was and not the 'awkward, gangly boy with ears' that Merlin thought of himself (Arthur finally watched the introductory tape Merlin submitted for the show). 

He bolted up in bed. Of course. That was it. He just had to acquire the equipment, _his_ equipment. Hanging half off the bed, he reached for his phone and texted Leon. 

He got an immediate text back. From Morgana. 

_Epiphanies in the middle of the night? x, M._

He texted back even though he was itching to ring her instead. Because did he want to chance hearing any _noises_ from these two together? God no. It was his _sister_ and his _Leon_. 

_It's the middle of the night. What are you doing with Leon's phone? x, A._

He got a smiley wink back. And then: _A lady does not reveal all her secrets._

_Lady?_

_Shut it, little brother. And go to bed. Because I said so. :P But seriously, I'm proud of you. Leon says the same. Expect shipment by the end of the week._

_Leon, what are you doing to my sister??_

_You should ask what your sister is doing to me..._

Arthur turned his phone off. Some things he did _not_ need to know. 

* 

Merlin didn't know yet how to teleport with any sort of precision. So he had settled for turning himself into a true merlin, perched high on a tree as he watched Arthur swing around in a circle looking for him, watch him curse and stomp, clap and laugh with feeling. But he was one _tired_ merlin, so he soon flew off in the direction of his and Mordred's room. 

He slept exceptionally well. So well in fact that he didn't even particularly mind that Mordred was there in his face so early, peering down at him with wide eyes. 

"Merlin?" 

Merlin blinked up at Mordred, at his mop of black curls backlit by sunlight. 

Somewhere a bird trilled. With a start, Merlin realised that it was him. He must have forgotten to change back to human last night in his exhaustion. 

"So, it is true. Nimueh told me you were magic but I didn't believe her. A magic user dated one of the most influential men of our time? How did you do it?" 

Merlin trilled again. Right. Still avian. He morphed, feeling a flash of heat as he did. This wasn't familiar magic. This trick he'd only done once a long time ago as a child when he turned into a monkey, which wasn't half as different. He touched a hand to jaw and grinned on feeling scruff, not feather. Success! 

"Arthur's just a bloke, Mordred." Merlin worked his jaw back and forth and sideways until everything felt like they were fitted together again right side up. "He's not actually 'the prince' whatever the tabloids say." 

" _What_ is going on here?" Gwaine burst into the room without invitation the way he'd done since the first day. Today, however, his eyes looked like they might fall right out of their sockets with how hard they were staring. "Tell me we're going skinny dipping and that's why you're naked." 

Merlin followed Gwaine's line of sight and looked down at himself. _Shite_. He was completely nude, his modesty preserved only by the blanket in his lap. "Erm. No. I was..." He bunched up the sheet around himself the best he could as he tried to buy some time to think up a white lie. 

"Merlin was feeling feverish last night." 

Merlin looked up at Mordred in surprise. Was this some misplaced magic users solidarity? He frowned, _I'm fine_ on the tip of his tongue when Gwaine stuck a hand under his fringe and felt his forehead. "Fuck me but you are burning up." 

"I'm not-" 

"Merlin," Lance (and his camera) popped out of nowhere. "Are you sure you're feeling quite well? You're looking rather more red than pink today." 

"Splotchy," Gwaine added. 

"Like Mandelbrot sets," said Mordred, who was apparently a genius at maths. 

"We should fetch the doctor," Percy put in. 

"I'm not dying!" Merlin pouted, feeling actually sick now with worry. He didn't want to leave the show, not now when he and Arthur were finally starting over again properly. 

~~ 

Merlin felt like dying a little. He was missing the rose ceremony right now and all because he overtired himself shape shifting. The doctor, who was every bit as fit as Arthur claimed, stuck a cold stethoscope to his chest and a cold thermometer in his mouth and proclaimed him feverish and in need of solitary confinement to bed for a week or until the fever broke, whichever came first. 

Merlin wanted his mum. Or Alice. Both had the magic touch when it came to health woes. Alice had actual magic, same as Gaius, but with fewer bitter herbs. His mum had the best chicken soup in the world. Alas, neither was likely to pop around anytime soon. 

He sighed again as he plucked at his duvet. He felt too hot and then too cold. The room was too quiet with Mordred and all his belongings gone. (They had to pack, all of them, for each rose ceremony, in case of elimination.) Mordred had helped pack Merlin's things earlier, even though he probably didn't need to. Probably. 

"You know you're not actually dying, Merlin." Arthur strode into the room, coming right up to his bed to sit on the edge of it. 

And just like that, Merlin's pity party disbanded. Still, he said, "I could be." 

"Don't be daft." Arthur looked around and spotting the vase with the roses in it, stuck another one in. "You're staying, by the way. You're in no state to go anywhere." 

Merlin watched as Arthur placed the flowers back on the window ledge to drink in the sun. 

"I could just..." He looked up just in time to see the movement of the camera trained on him. 

"Vanish into thin air?" Arthur finished his thought for him anyway. 

"Abracadabra." 

Arthur smiled at him fondly and swept hair off of his forehead. "You're burning up." 

And with Arthur's hand there, yeah, Merlin felt like some kind of small fire was definitely banking there. 

"Your fault." 

Arthur rolled his eyes and licked a smile under his tongue. "You want anything from the kitchen?" 

"Mum's chicken soup." 

"Chicken? Soup?" Arthur stared at him. "Be right back." 

Merlin exchanged a look with Lance, amused the both of them, before Lance hurried after Arthur's long strides to find out whatever it was that Arthur was up to. 

Merlin turned his face to the sun and looked at his roses. He floated the newest one over and inhaling, hid a smile in its petals. 

* 

By the time Arthur came back up to the room, Merlin had fallen asleep, a fresh rose laid across his chest. Arthur set the tray down on Merlin's suitcase and exhaled, with much love, a single word: _idiot._ Gently he pried the rose from Merlin's grip and tucked it back in water, next to the other roses, to stand tallest. 

With nothing else to do but wait, Arthur sat down on the other bed and tucked into his portion of the soup that he had assisted (bribed) Sefa to make. 

"Oh no, he's asleep." Sefa poked her head in the room. Behind her, Gwen, Elena and Mithian collectively gasped. 

"Oh gods, is he alright?" Gwen rounded over to pull Merlin's blanket up to his chin. 

Mithian moved in as well and felt Merlin's forehead as Elena and Sefa peered down at him with worry. At the door, Mordred, Gwaine and Percy lingered. Gwaine shot a frown Merlin's way before segueing into his usual. "You're going to eat all that by yourself, Pendragon?" 

"You still have pastry crumbs on your shirt, Gwaine." Arthur threw back. "He'll live." This he announced to the room at large. And he sure hoped so. Despite what the doctor said, Merlin did look in a bad way, like a mob of small children dumped the full contents of their mothers' rouge on his face all at once. 

"He will indeed." Mithian took a step back. "He's burning up but his other vitals are good. With some rest and lots of fluids, he'll be just fine." Arthur remembered then that Mithian was a nurse. This was good. A doctor, a nurse and a mage - magic user? sorceress? Arthur made a mental note to ask Merlin about the terminology. Anyway, _Nimueh_ when she said her farewells - all said Merlin would live. That had to count for something. 

"Thank you, Mithian. Now please all of you - go finish your brunch." 

"You're taking first watch?" 

"First...?" Which had to mean Gwaine planned on watching over Merlin too. Which gods, no. _No_. "... yes." Arthur swallowed his pride. He couldn't show blatant favouritism. Not to mention, it wouldn't do to fall sick himself. 

"Great. Two hours. Then me. Then Percy. Then Mordred." 

"Hey!" Elena put a hand on her hip. "Stop this sexist malarkey and let us girls have a go too. I'm taking second watch." 

"I'll take fourth," said Mithian. 

Gwen and Sefa spoke up, too, as well as Daegal from somewhere down the hall. "Thank you all," Arthur stirred his soup clockwise and then counter-clockwise. Merlin did tend to inspire in others a loyalty that warmed him to see. "I'll see you later." He looked pointedly at Gwaine. 

~~  
  


"Is the cavalry gone then?" 

Arthur looked up from his soup and grinned. Merlin was awake and looking his way, and no one else was in the room with them. "Just me. I get you to myself for two hours." 

Merlin shifted on the bed, letting the blanket slip down his torso and pool mid-hip. "Two hours?" He lifted an eyebrow, a corner of his lips. "Really?" And all of the sudden, Arthur felt like _he_ was the one with the fever. 

"Merlin," he warned. "You're not well. We need to-" 

"Soup." Merlin looked with his big eyes at the covered bowl. Then Merlin looked with his big eyes at Arthur, soft and lovely and like he would follow him to the end of the Earth. It was a look that took Arthur's breath away every time. 

"Yes," he swallowed. "I... well, _Sefa_ made this for you." 

"Thank God." Merlin grinned, cheeky. 

"Shut up and eat your soup." Arthur carried the bowl over and set it down in Merlin's hands. "Budge up." He waited till Merlin made room for him in the tiny twin bed. 

* 

Merlin ate what was probably the best soup he'd ever had in his life as he sat next to Arthur. He felt warm now, no longer unbearably hot. 

Arthur kept quiet, sipping the last of his own bowl. Merlin couldn't help watching their legs, the way they stretched out, side by side, easy, like some ad for fantasy vacation with sand and sky, the horizon stretching for miles, calm and bright. He sighed. This here. This was close to perfection. 

"Are you feeling any better?" Arthur felt his forehead. "You seem better." Arthur took the empty bowls and set them down on the night stand. 

"Magic soup." Merlin put his arms around Arthur's middle and squeezed. "Thank you," he said to Arthur's chest as he pinched the deep blue of Arthur's shirt, feeling its silky slide. This was nice. 

Especially when Arthur's hand came to rest on his hair, stroking. Arthur's hand had a good span to it and a good weight. "Are you using magic then, to fix yourself?" 

Merlin snorted. Oh he wished. 

"Doesn't work. I've tried." 

"Hmm." 

"Who went home?" Merlin couldn't help asking the question that's been on his mind. 

"Does it matter?" 

Merlin listened a couple of beats more to the rhythms of life, the rush of air and blood, incredible coordination, _Arthur_ under his ear. "I take it Sophia's still here." 

He was jostled, turned so that Arthur stared down at him, serious. Too serious. "Yes, but-" 

Merlin did the only thing he could think of to wipe that look off Arthur's face. He kissed him, kissed him until Arthur's lips gave, kissing him back. Until Arthur's whole body went slack and then tight, pressing down against his. Arthur's hands cradled his cheek and pressed hot along his nape. And Merlin felt this new fever climb. 

"Did you lock the door?" He pulled off to ask. And then he remembered. Arthur already knew about his magic. "Never mind. I got it." He added a layer of sound barrier as well while he was at it. 

"Your eyes," Arthur traced around them reverently. 

"Hmm," Merlin smiled easily. "What about my lips? I thought you had a thing for them. Especially wrapped around your-" 

Arthur shut him up with a kiss, the kind that pushed the air out of his lungs and made him feel like he was swept up in something more magic than any magic he knew. It didn't help that Arthur's hands were busy, bracketing his hips and then slipping under to cup above his tattoo. 

"Everything, Merlin." Arthur slid his hands under the waistbands and stilled his fingers there. "Even the irritating bits. And believe me, you have many." Arthur kissed him again before he could react, protest that Arthur had _more_. Irritating bits, that was. 

Arthur also had a lot of redeeming bits. Like the way he seemed to grow ten hands when he manhandled Merlin, pressing him onto the mattress while simultaneously loosening his pyjamas ties. Like the way Arthur's tongue grew so eloquent in Merlin's mouth and down over a neck tendon. _Super pleased to be here. Really. My favourite place in the world._

Merlin panted, sighed, almost wheezed from the proceedings. And Arthur stopped. "Are you alright? You're looking red again." 

"Hot soup," he blurted. "Hot magic soup." And when Arthur regarded him dubiously, Merlin huffed and got out of bed. He faced away from Arthur and toed off his pyjamas and pants and lifted his t-shirt. He knew his tattoo was on display (and okay, the rest of him too), but he wanted Arthur to look. He wanted Arthur to want, like he wanted. 

Arthur hooked a hand over his hip (perfect fit) and thumbed over his tattoo. "If you're sure." That Arthur sounded hoarse made Merlin smile and lean back against him. 

"Certain." 

Arthur brought up his other hand to bracket around Merlin's other hip. Easily, effortlessly, he pulled Merlin down to bed. With hot lips, he kissed the back of Merlin's neck and the top of his spine. Arthur's mouth pressed sure over his shoulder and then rounded back to his neck again and up to recapture his mouth. All along, Arthur palmed Merlin's sides and hips, the creases of Merlin's thighs and back to trace over Merlin's tattoo, a constant slide of heated skin over skin. 

Still, when Arthur's fingers finally closed over his cock, Merlin jumped before arching up into tight heat of Arthur's fist. 

"Like that?" Arthur smirked. And licked into his mouth, sucking on his tongue as he pumped steadily. 

Merlin tugged on Arthur's hair in answer. _Yes, gods, yes._ And so of course Arthur slowed his hand and pulled off his mouth to look at him. Whatever he read on Merlin's face seemed to answer his silent question. He dropped a quick kiss over Merlin's lips and turned him over, manoeuvring him till he was on his hands and knees. 

Then Arthur nudged his legs wider apart. "Your tattoo's going to kill me one day." That was all the warning he got before Arthur's hand, spit wet now, slicked over his dick and tugged. Arthur's other hand thumbed his cheeks apart to make room for Arthur's tongue. Wide swipe, just over the pulse of him over the rim. And then another one and then another one, in sync with Arthur's hand on his cock. 

Merlin dropped his head to the bed and arched back. He had no room for thinking at the moment. But he did anyway. Think, that was. About the first time Arthur did this for him, eager and clueless. Arthur wasn't so clueless now. No. Arthur knew just what to do. A pinch on the cheek to distract him and a conciliatory lick high along an inner thigh. The drip of spit sliding slow over the top of the crack, over sensitive skin and down, down, down, setting the scene, drawing out the anticipation. 

An expert lick, firm. Wet as the tongue pushed in. _Finally_ and not enough. A twist. A tongue twister. A twist of the wrist. Tightness low in Merlin's belly unravelled. He reached back for Arthur, needing to touch. Grabbed a shoulder, squeezed. 

Arthur did something with his tongue that dragged along a sweet spot, over and over, dragged a moan out of him. And then Arthur was turning him and batting his hands away. "Later." 

Dimly, Merlin thought they didn't have later. Two hours didn't mean two hours. He knew these people. Gwaine or Gwen or God, _Mordred_ was going to come check on him (and Arthur) much earlier. They were going to steal away later. 

But right now Merlin was in no position to argue. Not when Arthur kissed him sweetly, open mouthed and hazy eyed. Not when Arthur shuffled down and sucked a sure mark over his neck. 

Not -not when Arthur held his tongue over a pebbled nipple, circled, circled and sucked. Especially not when Arthur mouthed the head of Merlin's cock and slid down the length of it, swallowing to the root. 

Efficiently, Arthur sucked two fingers wet and let them travel farther still, past the coarse of hair and the cool of balls, past the soft of perineum to circle light and maddening round and round and round. 

When Arthur finally sank a finger in, Merlin zoomed past the edge. Fast and wild, he bucked up and cried out. Arthur held his eyes and held his hips, bobbed along the length of him and drank him down. 

* 

"You know you shouldn't have-" Merlin shuddered once more before he continued. "-I could have the dreaded lurgi." 

Arthur kissed him silent. He didn't want to think about Merlin with other people. Merlin the three years he wasn't there. "You don't, do you?" 

"No. They tested us for everything." 

"What about mental afflictions?" 

"That too." 

"And yet here you are." 

Merlin rolled his eyes but otherwise didn't move. "And yet here we are." 

Arthur hugged him. He refused to use Morgana's term for it - 'cuddle' was what one did with one's teddy bear when one was five and scared of thunderstorms, thank you very much. But yeah, he supposed they were somewhat. It felt nice. 

But then Merlin seemed to get his second wind. He pushed off Arthur's arm, and for a second that hurt. But then Merlin arranged himself so that he was covering Arthur. "What about you?" Merlin reached down and rubbed his palm over where Arthur was still straining, tenting his trouser. 

Arthur sucked a deep breath in. _Merlin's fingers._ God, he'd almost forgotten how nimble and strong they were, how good they felt wrapped around him. 

"I'm-" 

A pounding sounded at the door. "Merlin! Arthur! You all right in there?" 

"-going to kill Gwaine." He sank back to bed and tried to will his body to not react to Merlin next to him. 

Merlin didn't make matters any easier. He laughed, a gorgeous slice of amusement stretching from the corners of his eyes to the dimples by his mouth. And then he kissed Arthur with that mouth, sweetly, like they had time. "At least you're mostly decent." Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur's hair, smoothing wayward strands into place. "Thank you." 

"What for?" Arthur was pretty sure he hadn't killed Gwaine just yet. 

"The rose. The soup. I don't know. You." Merlin slipped his shirt back on and tugged up his pyjama bottoms. 

Arthur watched with dismay as swatches of skin disappeared under checkered cotton. 

"You have a lovely pout." Merlin ran a thumb over his lower lip and Arthur stuck it out even more. 

"I don't _pout_. I'm not five." 

Merlin _hmm_ 'ed and inclined his head towards the door. "Shall I let in the beast?" 

"Only if I get to slay it." 

"From there?" Merlin looked at him with laughter held like a piece of sweets on his tongue. "I'd be duly impressed." 

"As well you should be." 

~~ 

Arthur didn't get to slay the beast. The beast who touched Merlin all over under the guise of checking on his fever. 

But Arthur did get to stay in Merlin's room for the rest of the afternoon. Everyone did, as everyone _came_. It was a veritable stampede. Even Isolde and Tristan crammed in, cosying it up next to a desk lamp. Outside of their role as hosts, they were actually quite lovely. The way Tristan looked at her or the way Isolde looked back - Arthur's heart clenched to witness their moments, the simple ways they just were, even in silence. Especially in silence. 

He missed that most of all with Merlin. All their quiet moments. When Merlin bent over his work lamp, tweaking a wing or a motor, his mouth slack with concentration. When Merlin chewed nervously on a lip, reacting subconsciously to a film or an advert or the news. When Merlin ate soup or broke bread with delight. When Merlin arched his shoulders to reach a spot on his back in the shower. When Merlin looked at him sometimes when they were out together and Arthur was pretending not to look back. 

Arthur had all of these moments recorded - some on his phone, some on his camera. A thousand more in his memory. 

And counting. 

Merlin shifted beside him on the bed, playing poker as terribly as Arthur remembered him doing. Of course back then Arthur didn't mind at all, not with strip poker being their game. Now though, now he had no excuse for finding Merlin's inexplicably bad bets endearing. Except that Merlin's fingers, freed from cards, now tapped lightly, rhythmically over the top of his knees. And Merlin's fingers were musical, wonderfully, almost accidentally so, the way they played. Arthur could look on forever. 

That he lost the game to Mordred he blamed entirely on Merlin. 

* 

Merlin supposed it was bound to happen. Other people, that was. Or more precisely, other contestants monopolising Arthur's time. 

He hadn't seen Arthur now in over a week, which was over a week too long. 

He couldn't even properly begrudge them either. Daegal got to go to Nepal. His grin as he stood tall on the side of Mount Everest (even with Arthur's arm slung over his shoulder) made Merlin smile. Mithian and Elena got to visit the Serengeti, riding horses and posing with a pride of lions. Elena even got Arthur to pet a goat ("That's an impala, Merlin." "Close enough."). That Arthur looked like he was having the time of his life didn't make Merlin jealous at all. Nope. 

Now Arthur was away at a fancy fencing camp with the trio of Percy, Gwaine and Mordred. Merlin had the room all to himself again and he couldn't sleep for the lack of distraction and for same striped bed sheet underneath. Arthur was _here_ not so long ago and laid on top of him _there_. Merlin tried not to think about it. Arthur was god knew where now. 

Merlin tucked a hand between his knees and another under his head and tried counting sheep. Then impalas. Then the number of hours till his own date with Arthur. 

~~ 

Merlin supposed it must have been the show's intention to stretch the hours without the bachelor into a dark pit of tedium, especially in contrast to the hours of adventure in the bachelor's company (really, over the last week, the cave he'd started crafting from the sticks of ice lollies had grown elaborate enough now for even the choosiest dragon). 

Who _wouldn't_ swoon to see the bachelor? Especially when said bachelor came back from camp Medieval Knights all tanned and blond and with the biggest bouquet of wildflowers in his arms. 

"For you." Arthur brandished his gift from behind his back, and Merlin thought perhaps the week and a half of waiting (and drinking, tinkering and swimming, wondering and wondering) was well worth it. 

"They're all purple." He said in lieu of something sappy like _gods, but it's good to see your smile_. 

"Well, purple suits you." Arthur pulled him into a hug, flowers and all. 

"That's what Gwen said." Merlin held on tight as he watched the chopper blades whipping up a storm behind Arthur. 

"Of course she did. She has good taste." Arthur's lips caught on his neck as he spoke, and Merlin closed his eyes a moment to take it all in. "Hi." 

"Hi." Merlin touched his temple to Arthur's. 

Arthur touched back and turned his head smoothly around to kiss him hello. _Missed you._

Merlin couldn't help the smile. This was Arthur kissing him in public for the first time (and on camera no less). And it was one of their private kind of kisses, with Arthur unbridled, with Arthur who yearned down to every one of his fingertips the way he was cupping Merlin's ears. Arthur was kissing him like Merlin was his again, which Merlin was starting to believe true. Arthur was his, too. To hold, to protect, to love. 

And to tease. "Are you quite done crushing my flowers then?" 

"I'll show you crushing!" Arthur grabbed him around the waist and tumbled them to the ground, till they were a laughing pile, streaked with dust. 

"So, where are we going?" Merlin let himself be dragged back up. "Lance said it was a secret." 

"It's still a secret," Arthur ushered him up into the chopper. "How else would I surprise you, Merlin?" 

"Balloons would do. See, one could never tell with balloons. They could be filled with helium or not. They could be hot or not. A fleet of them could lift a house-" 

"-or not." Arthur tumbled Merlin into his arms again and kissed him quiet. And Merlin didn't mind it at all. They were going somewhere together now and that was good enough for him. 

* 

Arthur had gone on lavish dates before, especially if Morgana had quite inserted herself into the planning. But they were still nothing like these dates with the last of the contestants. He toured the Louvre with Gwen one day and was stood on the side of the Himalayas the next with Daegal. Africa and North America were both quite brilliant as well, but Arthur couldn't settle for the lack of Merlin there. 

He scrolled through his phone often, looking at his pictures of Merlin (lowered lashes, back of ear, tattoo) that he'd quietly snapped for mementos' sake. 

The real Merlin was leagues better. Arthur held him tighter just because he could. Merlin was solid and warm and currently chatting up a storm with the pilot about turbulences and goats. As if the two had anything to do with one another. 

With a start, Arthur realised Merlin was trying to tease out their destination from the unsuspecting pilot. 

"Stop trying to ruin your surprise." Arthur tickled him. 

"What?" Merlin squirmed and tried looking innocent. And oh, that was such a bad idea to make Merlin _move_. Arthur tightened his hold to keep Merlin still. 

Of course Merlin caught on right away. He smirked, all cheekbones and dimples and squirmed some more. The bastard. 

~~ 

Arthur had never been so glad to land. He needed the small distance from Merlin to cool down. 

Merlin's reaction was the other part of it. Gobsmacked he was. Arthur grinned to catch him speechless. "All right?" Arthur squeezed his hand. 

"Better," Merlin squeezed back. "Better than balloons." Merlin circled around the atrium and touched everything, even the glass cases housing the more fragile pieces. "I didn't know there was such a thing as a whole museum devoted to dragon lore." 

"There wasn't. Read the plaque. Here." Arthur pulled him towards the entranceway. 

"Wait! That's Aithusa." Merlin stopped to point to the photo of his sand dragon. 

"You named it? Of course you did." Arthur remembered the way Merlin named all the dragons in his life. It was almost like his naming them gave them life. 

"Is the photo yours?" 

"Maybe." Arthur still felt self-conscious with his work blown up giant on a wall like this. Photographs were intimate to him, a moment frozen in time, a mood, a memory, sacred. Photographs were almost all he had left of his mother. 

"It's a good angle." Merlin touched lightly around the snout, almost petting. "She looks larger, looming, like she might eat you." 

"That's... comforting." But in a way it was. That Merlin liked it made Arthur all warm inside. 

"They're misunderstood, that's all." Merlin spoke softer than his usual, looking more serious. "Magical creatures, I mean. Give them a neat trick, like breathing fire, and people come at them with swords to cut them down." 

_I'd never let them cut you down_ , Arthur thought. "They were just trying to make their way in the world." 

"Yeah. Yeah, that's it exactly." Merlin beamed and for a moment Arthur didn't understand how he could have ever been so blind. Of course Merlin was magic. Of _course_. Whose eyes shone like that? No sunrise or sunset could cast that kind of light. 

"Come on, then. The plaque. I had Leon work it up. Tell me what you think." And Arthur deposited Merlin in front of the wooden monstrosity and stepped back to chew on his nails. He'd only worked on the wording for the dedication for ages. 

Merlin tilted his head to read, holding his back still, so still. Arthur shifted his weight from one leg to the other, crossed his arms and uncrossed them. "Merlin?" 

"You are a ridiculous man." Merlin turned and his eyes were suspiciously shiny. 

"Are you crying?" Arthur didn't mean to make him cry. He never meant to make anyone cry. That Sophia did, bursting into tears for reason unknown during the group date with Gilli and Sefa, was one thing. He'd walked her to a private spot and patted her back awkwardly until she'd smiled again. But seeing Merlin like this hurt. "Do you not like it?" 

Merlin shook his head and hugged Arthur tight. "Tell Leon he did an amazing job." 

" _Leon_?" But Arthur breathed one long sigh of relief. "Tell him yourself. He's coming next week." 

"When did you do all this?" Merlin unwrapped himself from the hug and started peering at the displays again. "And how? I'm pretty sure this vase with the dragon silhouette is a national treasure of some sort. It's _ancient_." 

"It's magic." Arthur grinned over the word now that he knew its true meaning. "Nimueh helped secure some of these and Morgana procured the rest." 

"Nimueh _and_ Morgana. God." 

"I think they prefer god _dess_ , but yes." 

Merlin snorted and rounded back to the dedication. "And _you_. I love..." He took a long pause, tracing Arthur's words carved into the wood. And Arthur held his breath. "I love your work. Always have." 

Arthur breathed out and bumped Merlin's elbow with his. "Already promised you a rose, didn't I?" 

"Nothing to do with that, prat. Just take the compliment." Merlin elbowed him back. "Are you going to have a proper museum shop with overpriced prints and fancy teas and coffees?" 

"What do you think, _Mer_ lin? It's in your name. You've got a say." 

"Oh, I see. You've named it _The Emrys Collection_ just so you could put me to work." 

"Very good. I see we understand each other." Arthur held the smile there at the corner of his lips. 

Merlin laughed and squeezed his hand. "Thank you." 

Arthur squeezed back. 

* 

Merlin wanted to live in his namesake forever. Not only was it a dragon paradise and the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him, but it was endlessly magical. Literally. He sensed ancient charms from several of the artefacts. Nimueh then. She must have conjured them up somehow. 

Amongst the treasures, there was one set of tiny figurines with old runes carved onto their scales. They were his favourites. He was sure the carvings were spells. If only he could read them. He lingered, studying them after dinner (where Arthur presented him a rose with a tiny scroll rolled up in its bud - _meet me 8 pm, room 203_ ). 

Lance joined him in front of the display case and asked matter-of-factly, "Magic?" 

" _Ancient_ magic." Merlin didn't even hesitate. There was no point after Lance caught him practising turning a garden statue into a real dog last week. 

"What does it do?" 

"I haven't the slightest." 

Their laughter drew Arthur's attention from across the room, where he was filming his confessional. Merlin couldn't help but look back at him and think _8 pm._

"Just don't make that one come to life," Lance inclined his head towards the largest dragon in the bunch, a sculpture spanning the whole girth of the exhibit, hung up high from the ceiling. 

Merlin chuckled. "I wished I could. Still haven't got the hang of it." 

"May I suggest practising on these tiny ones, then?" 

Merlin laughed. "Oh, c'mon, Lance, live a little." 

"Precisely my point." 

Merlin grinned. "Don't worry. I'll protect you." 

"What about him?" Lance looked towards the other end of the room. 

_Always_ , Merlin thought. "Why, is it in my contract? Protect the prat at all cost?" 

Lance just looked at him though, like he knew what Merlin was thinking. "Ready?" He gestured to where a chair was set up for Merlin's own confessional. 

~~ 

Lance and the rest of the crew had gone out on the town half an hour ago. Merlin took the opportunity of unsupervised time and a phone in his hotel room to call home. 

Will hadn't burnt down their flat. Freya had finally conquered her nightmares. 

"That's ace, Frey. How?" 

"Your bed. I don't get nightmares in your bed, Merlin. Isn't that wonderful?" 

"What?" 

"I've got to go. Will is burning the pasta sauce. Basil's _never_ supposed to smell like that. Ta!" And Freya hung up on him. 

Merlin was left pondering two of his best friends living together, being together. He supposed he was happy for them, but not so much for his bed. It was his _bed_ , for Christ's sake. 

He called Gaius to wash that image out of his head. Gaius asking after his magic and his health calmed him down. "I'll send you a book. Invisible ink," he said before Merlin could protest that the show made them open every gift on camera. "Perhaps you can figure out the runes." 

"Perhaps." 

"That's a lovely thing your chap did for you." 

"He's not really my chap, Gaius. He's dating ten other people." 

Gaius ignored him. "I can't wait to meet your chap and to see you again, my boy. Take care of yourself." 

Merlin let it go. It was nice hearing Gaius call Arthur his chap. And it was a rather nice thing that Arthur did. 

He called his mum last, saving the best and all. Her new crop on her rooftop garden was flourishing and her new stained glass window piece was coming along. "But how are you, Merlin? Are they treating you well? How's the bachelor? Do you like him?" 

"I really do, mum." Merlin plucked at a loose string of the pillowcase. "He built me a _museum_. Well... no, I suppose I should say he commissioned it for me. _The Emrys Collection_ \- it's named after both me and dad and it's full of dragon lores. There's so much magic in that place, mum. I felt-" 

"Oh, Merlin." He could hear her worry over the line. She always did. "Does he know? About you? Are you being careful?" 

Merlin thought about it. He really wasn't. Not with the Vivian save and the turning into and staying a merlin overnight. Not with practising on garden sculptures in full view of Lance. "Arthur knows," he settled for saying. 

"Arthur?" His mother's tone got funny all of a sudden. "Not Pendragon?" 

" _Mum_ , I'm not supposed to tell, but yes, him. Why?" 

"He's Uther's son." 

"Yes..." Merlin didn't see what that had to do with anything. 

"Oh, Merlin, just be careful. Not everyone-" 

"-'s understanding. I know, mum. But he is. I promise you Arthur is." Merlin would have said more but there was a pounding at his door. "I've got to go. If anyone asked, I never called. I love you, mum." 

"Merlin!" 

"Yes?" 

"You sound happy, love. I'm glad." 


	6. The Friend

Arthur didn't understand why Merlin wasn't in his room at 8 pm as they agreed. And they did agree, Arthur was sure. Merlin had read his note and nodded. 

So, he decided to visit Merlin instead. He'd had to sweet talk the receptionist into releasing the room number, but it really wasn't that difficult. 

What was difficult, apparently, was getting Merlin to open the bloody door. 

"Arthur," Merlin sounded surprised when he finally did, a grin on his face and a pair of slippers on his feet. "I thought I was coming to you." 

"Why, Merlin, I thought so too." Arthur pushed into the room on adrenaline, a hand on his hip. 

"Couldn't wait?" 

Arthur knew Merlin was just teasing him but really yes, he couldn't. "I've already waited two bloody weeks to get you alone again." 

"That's true." Merlin put his back to the door to close it. "Tea?" He skirted around Arthur to get to the corner table with the knickknacks. "The selection's unfortunate but..." 

"That I'm in love with an idiot is unfortunate." Arthur braced his hands on the table, bracketing Merlin. 

Merlin's breath hitched. "Me?" 

"Do you see another idiot here?" When Merlin's eyes took on their sassy light, Arthur knew what was coming - _well, there's you_ \- and took preventive measures. 

He'd found laying his tongue over Merlin's quite erased his ability to speak. Merlin kissed him back and wrapped his legs around Arthur's legs, and Arthur thought whomever invented tables and kissing and kissing on tables were quite the genius. 

"Wait, Arthur, I know we're both in a weird situation. But I just -" 

"You want to know if I'm kissing around?" 

" _No_ , I absolutely do not want to know." Merlin knocked over an empty cup and a tray of tea packs. Automatically, Arthur picked them up and put them away. Merlin ran his fingers under Arthur's chin, scratching at his scruff. "I erm, I wanted you to know that I called my mum and told her you were the bachelor. And she asked about Uther." 

"What about him?" As far as Arthur knew, Uther never dated Merlin's mum. Now, _that_ would be awkward. 

"Does he - does he hate magic?" 

Arthur wanted to wipe the worried look off Merlin's face. He wanted to go back to hugging and kissing him. "Magic? My father? I don't think he even knows it exists. He's certainly never talked about it." 

"Huh," Merlin shrugged. "All right then." 

"Merlin," Arthur touched his forehead to Merlin's. "You know I would never let any harm come to you _._ " 

" _Arthur_ ," Merlin laughed. "You know I could turn Uther into a toad if I wanted to _."_

"Touché." 

"But just so you know, I'd rather that he liked me." 

" _I_ like you." 

"I thought you loved me." 

Arthur blushed. Couldn't help it. He didn't mean to say it. Not yet. He had the whole final rose ceremony planned in his head. The true confession. He'd say it all then, lay his heart out on the line. 

"Arthur," Merlin cupped his face and kissed him, persuasive lips pressed soft and warm over his. And then Merlin's hand roved down to cup the zipper strip over his trousers. "Stop thinking so hard. You'll hurt yourself." 

Arthur's head snapped back as a moan escaped. Father. Magic. Love. _Boner_. How did they get here? So, yes, all right. Thinking was awful. Or, he was awful at thinking. One of those. 

But Merlin, gods, Merlin was good at everything. The slinking down to the floor. The popping open of a button, the easy slide of a zipper, the fit of his fingers between skin and cotton. Arthur's legs fell open as he was turned and propped against the table. (Brilliant things, tables.) 

Merlin's hands kneaded at his legs and arse and cock, attentive. Merlin's tongue licked up along a vein and around under the head. Merlin's thumb teased, pressing down just where he needed it. Arthur bit his lips. _God_. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been craving this ever since Gwaine's interruption during Merlin's fever. Merlin was right - his lips were Arthur's favourites. They were plump and generous and they stretched perfectly around him. Added to the hollowof Merlin's cheeks and the pitches of his moans - god, Merlin was tugging on himself now, intent on bringing them both off - all of it made quite the picture, rendering Arthur weak in the knees. 

"Merlin, Merlin, gods." He didn't even know what he was saying. He kept petting Merlin's hair though, tangling his fingers in the short curls. And he tugged when he had to, when it got to be too much. (And it was all too much.) He tugged hard just before he came, but Merlin only hummed around him and continued the perfect suck and pull and twist. Arthur gave over and gave over and gave. 

When he collapsed, his skin buzzing, his lips pillowed on Merlin's cheek. He tried for a kiss and was only semi-successful. Merlin laughed and cupped his face again and kissed him lightly, again and again, perfect little suctions that made him tingle all over. 

He tasted himself on Merlin.And then he couldn't. And then all he could taste was them. 

(And they taste brilliant.) 

~~ 

Saying goodbye was difficult. Saying goodbye to Merlin would be torture. So, Arthur didn't. He lingered by Merlin's side until the very last minute, until five a.m. the morning after. Merlin laid in the circle of his arms, still sleeping, lips pouted and infinitely kissable. 

Arthur felt right with the world. This dip here to the left of him - Merlin belonged here. He buried his face in the slope of Merlin's spine, inhaling the generic soap from the generic shower. He couldn't wait until the show was over, till Merlin was back to Merlin's smells, this wonderful earthy, herby smell of his hipster shampoo and hipster skin. 

Merlin shifted and mumbled in his sleep, and Arthur hugged him tighter to his chest. 

And then let go. Had to. He didn't want any cameras to catch them just yet. The overnight dates - he'll be able to stay then, blow Merlin awake, kiss him dirty and make full use of the shower. 

Arthur dropped a kiss on Merlin's shoulder and tore himself away to dress. It was another day, he tried to remind himself. Another day of the show over was another day closer to Merlin. 

* 

At first Merlin was quite disappointed to find Arthur gone in the morning. It reminded him sharply of their first year together, when Arthur would be nowhere to be found first thing Monday morning, when Merlin would roll over on his side, feeling bereft in the middle of the wide, empty bed. 

Then Merlin turned and found the small note, curled once around the stem of his rose. 

_Thank you for holding me last night. Will miss you till I see you. xo._

Merlin was pretty sure they did a lot more than just hold each other - although that was certainly a main event - but he pressed the note to his lips and smiled. _Arthur_. There was a touch of a romantic in him however muchhe would blush and rush to deny it. 

~~ 

Merlin blushed furiously. They were all, the remaining eight of them, lounged about the pool, and Mordred had just asked about his date with Arthur. "Heard you went to London." 

Merlin wondered which of the crew told him. Perhaps Cedric. That bloke had a shifty look about him and a big mouth. "Yep, good old London. It was pouring, downright thundering." 

"Oh, I miss the rain," Elena arched her back and sighed. "And thunder. Thunder's my favourite." 

"What did you do in good old thundering London?" Gwen nudged his shoulder, taking up more of the lounge chair they were sharing. 

Merlin hesitated. He wanted to keep Arthur's gift to himself for many reasons. There were so few of them left now with Daegal, Gilli and Sefa's departures. He didn't want to fan the jealousy. Besides, he wanted to keep the gift between just the two of them (and the crew) for the moment, their collective secret. 

With so many pair of eyes trained on him, however, Merlin relented. After all, he did hear all about everyone else's dates. "We erm, we had dinner. In a museum." 

"No way! Date twins!" Gwen held a hand up for a high five. 

Merlin clasped her hand instead. "Not-not quite. Erm. He sort of erm..." 

"...commissioned the museum for you?" Mordred finished his sentence. 

And Merlin wondered just how much Mordred knew (Cedric and his _seriously_ big mouth!). Mordred's expression turned sheepish and he stared down intensely at the sunshine reflected in the bend of his leg. 

"Oh my gosh!" Gwen was crushing his fingers by this point. "Really? Merlin! Is it a toy museum? Butterfly exhibit? What is it?" 

"Dragon lore actually." Merlin winced as he tried to extricate his hand. 

"Sorry! Sorry! Dragon lore? Blimey! I've never heard of one with dragon lore before. That's _brilliant_ , Merlin." 

"Yeah, yeah, it really is." Merlin broke into a grin. "You don't even have to love _How to Train Your Own Dragon_ or understand how magnificent these creatures are. A tour around _The Emrys Collection_ would convince you, would convince anyone. I'd bet on it. There's this raw power, this ancient... _energy_ about the pieces." He looked over at Mordred, to emphasise what kind of ancient energy it was exactly. He knew Mordred would understand and the rest would think nothing of it. 

Despite their awkward beginning, Merlin was growing reluctantly fond of Mordred. He was the little brother Merlin never had. He was magic too and understood that side of it, that side of being an outsider in a world that didn't acknowledge magic. They'd even been practising some spells together from the book of spells that Gaius sent ("Merlin! Merlin, that's so cool! Invisible ink and then you- your hand- and then _words_!" Mordred had many words, as it turned out, given the right topic and the right company). 

"I only got to fence with him." Mordred was saying. He sounded in awe, as he tended to do with all things magical. 

"Hey now. It was a sweaty good time." Gwaine threw a peanut up in the air and caught it with his tongue. Merlin tried not to think about how sweaty or how good a time. 

"Yes, but a whole museum! Dragon lore!" Mordred insisted. 

"Some of us only got flowers," Sophia put in. 

And Merlin didn't have the heart to tell her he got that too. 

"When are you going to invite us, Merlin?" Gwen tickled his side. "I loved that dragon movie and I bet your collection is just as magical, Mr. _Emrys_." 

"Anytime, Miss Smith. You're welcome anytime." Merlin squirmed away from her and grinned. "Of course, everyone is. It's open to the public. Or well, it will be after the episode airs." 

"Sneak preview! Sneak preview!" Gwaine and Elena started the chant and Percy and Mithian and then the rest joined in. 

Merlin shared a look with Mordred. He could with magic. With magic, he could show them the collection right now. But the cameras were rolling. He shrugged. "It's a date then." 

"Stealing Arthur's dates now, are we?" A familiar voice rang out behind him. 

From the way Gwaine's jaws dropped and the way Gwen was squeezing his arm painfully, Merlin knew before he turned that it had to be the one and only Morgana Pendragon herself. 

"Morgana!" 

"Merlin." Morgana looked fabulous the way she always managed to do, with a floppy sun hat and reflective sunglasses which in no way obscured her amusement. "Fancy seeing you without a scarf." 

"Too hot." 

"I'd say. Look at this group. I'm jealous." Morgana arranged herself easily at Merlin's side where Gwen had just vacated. "Thank you, darling." She grinned up at Gwen and Merlin could have sworn Gwen whimpered. 

And then she curtsied, Gwen did. Merlin sighed. The Pendragons and their charms. 

"What are you doing here, Morgana? I thought Leon was supposed to come." 

Morgana lowered her glasses to peer at him. "Oh, he's coming," she winked at him. "So," she turned to the group, "hello. I'm Morgana Pendragon, Arthur's half-sister. Why don't you tell me all about yourselves?" 

* 

Arthur felt an ease spread through him at the sight of the ginger head of hair poking out from the chopper. Leon. _Finally_. His arrival was delayed; morning had turned into noon and now into afternoon. 

"Mate, you made it!" He was clapping Leon on the back when he saw Morgana emerge behind him. "You!" 

"Still as eloquent as ever, I see." She cocked an eyebrow and folded him into an embrace and a cheek kiss. Whatever else Morgana was, Arthur could not deny she gave fantastic hugs. 

He hugged her back. "What are you doing here? The invitation was for Leon." 

Leon hung his head sheepishly and was of no help at all. 

"Yes, and Leon invited me." Morgana flicked his nose in an irritating move she'd adopted since the age of six. 

Arthur looked at his friend. And then at his sister. "You're actually serious, aren't you?" He looked at the red tinge to Leon's cheek, the way his eyes were little suns of adoration trained on Morgana. "About her. This isn't some fling?" 

"Arthur," Leon tore his eyes away from the nosy silhouette of Morgana, who was surveying the lay of the land and purposefully ignoring him. "We're both here for _you_ , believe it or not. I heard Merlin was back." 

Arthur blinked at the change of topic. And Merlin. Yes, okay Merlin. "Yes, but I don't need help with Merlin. I need help with the rest of them." 

"Are you sure?" Leon looked at him with a frown. "As I recall, you bollocked up the thing with Merlin pretty spectacularly." 

"Oi!" 

Leon only shrugged. "I didn't even know you were together. I mean you were always together but - _oh_." Leon stopped as if hit with sudden revelation. 

Morgana smiled indulgently at him. "Boys, I'll let you catch up. I'm going to go freshen up and see if I can't stir up some trouble in paradise." 

"Not too much trouble," Arthur said on reflex. 

"Never." She pursed her lips in Leon's general direction and was awarded a sound kiss. Arthur looked away. 

"If I have to watch you kiss Merlin and..." 

Arthur sighed. "Sophia." 

"Sophia, then you can deal with this." She kissed Leon again and wiggled her fingers in farewell. 

Leon cleared his throat when it was just the two of them. "Does it really bother you? Me and Morgana?" 

Arthur didn't want to admit it. "No. No, mate. You're... and Morgana's..." He gestured with an arm as if the extension of it was an extension of his sentence, his thought. 

"Yeah." Leon understood the arm. (Leon and Morgana and Merlin - they all did.) "Yeah, I know. I popped by one morning and there she was in a fitted red number and all _Morgana_. But there were curlers in her hair and circles under her eyes and she was reading the paper and yawning over her cuppa. And mate, I don't know. I saw years of mornings with her." 

Arthur didn't want to understand but yeah, he sort of did. That was exactly how he felt about Merlin when he watched him work or when he watched him talk or sometimes even when he watched him sleep. 

"That's disgusting, Leon," he settled for saying as he punched him good naturedly on the arm. 

" _You're_ disgusting." Leon punched him back. And just like that the tension broke. 

They were still laughing when Leon asked, "So, Sophia... your second favourite?" 

Arthur cringed. 

"Ah." Leon pulled out the handle of one of the giant luggage they've brought with them. 

Arthur hurried to help. "She's all right." 

"Who's second favourite, then?" 

Arthur didn't have to think about it. There was something with Gwen there, something that could have blossomed beyond friendship in a different universe perhaps. 

"Gwen." 

"Third?" 

"Leon!" 

"No thanks, mate. It's your sister I'm sweet on." 

Arthur laughed. "There's just no accounting for taste." But he looked over at Leon, besotted Leon, his best mate, and gave him a nod. 

~~ 

Arthur didn't know where Morgana disappeared to or what happened to make her so upset when she returned. But she was a cooler shade of herself when she rejoined them for dinner as promised. Even Leon couldn't much cajole a smile from her. 

When she finally did, her smile (wince) reached just under her eyes, and she asked the most random of questions. "How do you feel about Gwen? She's a rather sweet girl, don't you think?" 

Arthur blinked. "I... she's lovely." He looked at the camera at the edge of the door and up at Lance. Lance kept his head down and didn't look back. 

"Yes, I think so too." Morgana frowned at the silverware around her as if they've personally offended her. 

"Which one is Gwen again?" Leon navigated through his dessert crumble awkwardly with the little dessert spoon. 

"Curly hair, freckles, gorgeous caramel skin." Morgana plunked down her utensils. 

"Right. Sorry, love. I-" 

"No, don't. I'm not feeling well, that's all. I'll see you later. Arthur, I'll see you in the morning. Good night." 

"Morgana!" Arthur knew what it was like when his sister was sick. She was never in any mood for company. Still, he called after her. "Do you need anything?" 

She didn't answer him, just disappeared down the corridor with a wisp of dress the last trace of her. 

He exchanged a look with Leon, who was wiping his mouth and getting up. "I'll see if she needs anything." 

Arthur sat back and steepled his hands. He wondered what that was all about. He thought of going to see his sister despite her protests. And then he thought about fevers and Merlin's fever and... Well, he could take a walk instead, get some fresh air, perhaps see Merlin. 

* 

Merlin thought he would get to talk to Morgana beyond pleasantries, but she seemed quite set on talking to everyone else instead. Gwen was flustered and Gwaine offered up his _drink_. Sophia seemed surprised by the sheer number of questions posed to her. Even Mordred was properly impressed (kid actually smiled!). Merlin didn't know what to make of it all. 

He excused himself to slip away to the kitchen to fetch more drinks. Drinks they did need. Morgana was still asking questions, giving her intense green stare when she deemed an answer inadequate (Sophia received a great number of those). 

Merlin shook some cranberry juice into a glass and let the icy touch of it cool him down. It was a rather humid day. He was reaching for the vodka when Mordred breezed into the room on magic, waving the alcohol over to him. "Here you are, Merlin." 

"Mordred. Not out making an impression on our esteemed Lady Morgana?" 

"She's no fool." Mordred tried a calling spell (he was much better at pushes - scattering things and once _Merlin_ in a radial outward direction). The glass of cranberry juice hovered precariously by Mordred's nose before taking a nosedive down the front of his white shirt. "Shite," Mordred wiped fruitlessly at the stain. "I think she's magic." He plucked the glass out of mid air before it could crash down with the liquid. 

"Your shirt, Mordred." Merlin shook his head. "You should go up and change." 

"No. Didn't you hear me, Merlin? She's magic." Mordred set down the glass and looked Merlin in the eyes. 

It was still unnerving when Mordred stared at him like that, like he could see all the way through Merlin's mind. "You should still go change." Merlin pinched at the wet spot. 

"Do you already know about her, then?" 

" _Mordred_ ," Merlin bent to find more juice in the refrigerator. "I hardly think Morgana has any magic. Arthur had no clue of magic and he grew up with her." 

Mordred gave him the stubborn child look and refused to blink. 

"Okay. I'll play. What makes you think she's magic?" 

"She got you those pieces for the museum. You said they were magic." 

Merlin blinked. He never said Morgana procured the pieces; it must have been Cedric again with the information overshare. "But it was Nimueh's doing probably." Even as he said it, Merlin knew that he was wrong. All of the pieces in the museum were magic, save Arthur's photograph and Leon's carving. 

"I think she's a Seer. Morgana. Pretty sure. She has the Seers' under-eye circles." 

Merlin started. Of course! Morgana did love smokey eye shadows but Merlin never thought it was from hiding. As Gwen said, they made her eyes pop. With a shake, Merlin began mixing the drinks. 

"Speaking of magic," Mordred looked at him with his large round eyes, "can I see your museum? We can use the sink." 

"A mirror would be better. But Mordred, we should be getting back soon. I'm sure Gwaine will be here in two seconds wondering where his cocktail's gone." 

"Pretty sure Gwaine hasn't yet navigated his eyes out of Morgana's cleavage." Mordred shrugged. "But fine, if you're worried about getting caught... let's go upstairs then. Or we can do it in the loo." 

"Can't it wait?" 

"No, Merlin, it can't. I mean, _please_ Merlin, I just really want to see it. You said you felt this energy and maybe there is _something_ there and -" 

"All right, all right. We can do it in the loo. Hurry up." 

Mordred kissed him, fast on his chin and mostly sober this time around. "I love you." Okay, maybe not that sober. 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "And take off your shirt. It looks like a battlefield." 

"Haven't you heard? Love is a battle-" 

Merlin glared at him. 

Mordred made a zipping motion over his lips and grinned before disappearing into the loo downstairs. Merlin sighed and looked around for any excuse not to follow. Finding none, he walked in and closed the door. 

~~ 

It was an easy matter clearing the stain from Mordred's shirt. Merlin had tried this trick with Arthur's spills many a time. Dry cleaning? It was more like Merlin's Spin. 

It was also easy to bring up the museum through the calm surface of the mirror. Mordred squealed like a child in a sweets store as he took in the whole of the displays. "Oh gods, Merlin! _Oh_." 

Merlin snorted. "Keep your moaning down, will you?" But he was a little proud too, to have cast the spell, to bring his love of dragons to other people. That was all he ever wanted to do since he was little. That and meet his father. 

What was not easy was Morgana, or figuring out why she was suddenly so frosty towards him. When Merlin finally made it outside again with the tray of drinks, Morgana gave him a hard look as she brushed by him, leaving. 

Merlin tried not to make too much of it. Perhaps she was tired. Perhaps he did take too long with the drinks. Perhaps a thousand things. 

Then Arthur showed up with Leon in tow, and it was easy to put the thought aside. At least Leon loved him, patted him on his back like an old friend and asked about his last project, a red-tailed dragon with golden scales. 

"It was a bit like this one, eh?" Leon hooked his thumb Arthur's way. 

And that was true. That dragon was part of Merlin's Camelot line. That dragon was Arthur in miniature, bold and beautiful and just as fierce. 

"What's a bit like me?" Arthur inserted himself in the conversation as he hooked an arm over Merlin's shoulders and _leaned_. 

God, he was heavy. But Merlin felt warm, cocooned in the half hug. He let himself tease Arthur and get lost in their banter. 

After Arthur and Leon left, however, Merlin had too much quiet time in which to contemplate. He couldn't help but turn the day's events over in his head. Morgana was a Seer Mordred had said. What if Morgana had seen the future, seen how wrong or how awful he was for Arthur? What if Morgana had seen one of the others with Arthur? What if being with Arthur will hurt him somehow? What if Morgana just didn't like him? What if... 

Merlin fell asleep eventually on the what ifs. 

* 

Arthur was sad to see Leon (and yes alright, even Morgana) leave. They had given him a lot to think about over their weekend's visit. 

Morgana was set on Arthur eliminating Mordred. Her reasons ranged from _he's too young for you_ to _he's a maths genius and you are you_. Morgana was also set on Arthur eliminating Mithian and Elena. "They're in love and if anyone can't see that, they're blind as bats. Give the girls a chance." 

Leon, on the other hand, rather liked Mordred. "He's an alright chap." Leon had shrugged. But then again Mordred did help him with setting up the footie net and that automatically scored points with Leon. "I'd let go of Gwaine and Percy. I like them but Gwaine could drink five of you under the table and you might hurt Percy." 

Arthur had spluttered. "Me? Hurt Percy? Are you mad?" 

But Leon insisted. "In the matters of the heart, mate. He may not say as much as some of the others, but from what he does say, one could tell he's already loyal to you." 

So, it was a difficult day at the bowling alley. Arthur was saying goodbye to everyone in the group - Elena and Mithian and Gwaine and Percy. It was the largest group of eliminations yet and set up as a "shocker" episode for the show. Arthur tried to pad the goodbyes with good words for everyone, words he absolutely meant. 

Gwaine, of course, had to disrupt his earnest professions with his usual jibe. "You really hate bowling, don't you, mate?" 

That made him stop short and laugh. "Despise it." 

"It's all right. Not everyone can be as amazing as Master Gwaine at this game." And Gwaine lobbed off a ball straight down the centre, scoring another strike. He winked when he turned. And Arthur thought, yeah, he'll even miss Gwaine. 

Now though, now all that was done. He was down to the final four - Merlin, Mordred, Gwen and Sophia. He was doing hometown visits with these four plus a self-scheduled overnight with Merlin. He was quite looking forward to that. 

~~ 

Arthur knew it was torture but he purposefully saved Merlin for last. He first met with Gwen's Elyan, just home from backpacking through South America, and their multi-talented father Tom. The man was a chemist by day and by night made the best swords Arthur had ever seen. He was even moved to buy one off camera, a beauty they jokingly dubbed 'The Excalibur'. On camera, Mr. Smith had playfully threatened to use one of his many weapons should Arthur ever cause his daughter harm. "Dad!" Gwen had been horrified. "We're not in medieval England! Besides, you know full well I can wield one of these just fine." 

Arthur met Sophia's father next. The man was worn with grey hair from head to toe and limped along with a walking stick. His frailty stirred a well of sympathy within Arthur. Arthur's own mother had faded away after giving birth to him. He understood where Sophia's devotion came from and respected it. The three of them spent a quiet evening talking over a light meal by the lake. "I'd like to see my Sophia married before I go," old man Aulfric confessed as Arthur was leaving. "No one would ever be good enough for my daughter, but you seem like a decent lad." 

The trip to Mordred's family home was the most peculiar. For one, it was practically in the middle of a forest. The lodging itself was a right tree house. And he'd never heard so many bird songs all at once. It was like tripping back in time. Or to Disney. There were few words exchanged in total, but Arthur felt a spring of love and protection from Mordred's father and uncles. They surrounded Mordred like a herd of elephants their young. One look from any of them and Arthur felt properly warned. 

Today though, Today Arthur was the most nervous. He was going to meet Merlin's family for the first time. He'd heard loads about everyone - Merlin's mum and Merlin's Will and Merlin's work family, Gaius and Alice and Freya. But Arthur had never talked to any of them and definitely as not as Arthur, Merlin's suitor. And then there was the matter of an odd text from Morgana this morning: _be careful, Arthur. Tell Merlin I'm watching him._

Arthur didn't think much of it. He couldn't be safer with Merlin and Lance and the crew. And he couldn't wait to get Merlin alone. It was Merlin's family that made him nervous. Arthur combed his hair three times this morning and itched still for his comb now as he rode in the limo to Merlin's mum's home. 

He patted his camera instead, letting its smooth and its matted finish comfort him. He had not been without it since Leon and Morgana shipped it to him. Arthur knew he wanted to capture more photos today of Merlin and of his family, more images to pore over. 

"How are you feeling? All right?" Lance nudged his arm. 

"Sure." 

"Arthur." Lance pointed to his white knuckles. "Breathe. You're meeting other people who love Merlin, not facing an execution. You'll be fine." 

"Sure." 

"Arthur!" Lance snapped his fingers. "You're going to see _Merlin_. Focus on that." 

"How's Gwen?" 

"What?" Lance looked so flustered Arthur almost felt bad for playing this card. 

"Tell me about Gwen. I know you have her number. It's all right." 

"Arthur..." 

"How's Tom?" 

"Mr. Smith is great." Lance took the bait, catching him up about the Smiths - Tom and Elyan and eventually Gwen until they've arrived at Hunith's house. Arthur even managed to listen to the chatter a little and not let his internal chants of 'oh gods, please let Hunith love me' overwhelm him. 

* 

Merlin felt a little overwhelmed with all of his feelings. He was excited to see Arthur again. He was nervous for Arthur to meet his family. He was hungry just smelling the smells coming out of his mother's kitchen. He was worried about Will not behaving himself. He was confused about Will and Freya. They acted as they've always done and made no moves to profess their current relationship, if that was even what it was. Gaius was the one who finally got him to stop pacing and sit and drink some herbal tea. 

"Honestly Merlin, not only are you wearing a groove in your mother's good carpet - she just had it steam cleaned, you know - but you are single-handedly raising my blood pressure, young man." Gaius had given him his best stern eyebrow raise and stare. 

Merlin sat and drank and felt no calmer. "You're not going to grill him, are you?" 

"I'm sure your mother's taking care of that." 

"Gaius!" 

"If she doesn't, then I'll pick up the slack." 

" _Gaius_!" 

"Or I will," Alice chimed in. 

"I'll let him have it, I will." Will leaned on Merlin's chair and mussed up his hair. 

"Not helping!" Merlin patted down his hair again. He'd only combed it obsessively today. It's been another week now that he hadn't seen Arthur, hadn't even been in front of the cameras. It was a little strange to see them pop up at the doorsteps this morning and then milling about throughout the day, filming the preparation. 

Merlin would have liked to see Lance, but it was Cedric's team who showed up. And he couldn't well ask _Cedric_ about Arthur or the other hometown visits. 

"Poor Merlin." Freya kissed the top of his head. "Having to deal with his misfit gang in front of his lover boy." 

Of course that was when his mum walked into the room. Merlin never had any luck with his mother and awkward situations. The one scene in a movie that had naked people? His mother walked in during. The one joke that seemed rude beyond compare when taken out of context? His mother walked in then. The one time Merlin forgot to lock his door when he was a teenager and so frustrated by the fit captain of the footie team that he came straight home to wank? His mother walked in. They still haven't talked about that. If he could help it, they'll _never_ talk about that. 

"Merlin, I'm afraid your old bed is too small for company." His mother calmly set down a pot in the middle of the dining table. "If you help, we can bring out your old camping equipment with the extra bedrolls." 

"The ones _I_ slept in?" Will was indignant. "You're going to allow that Pendragon backside in my childhood bedrolls?" 

"Don't fancy your backside is all that special, William." Freya rolled her eyes and Merlin choked on his tea. 

"I'm fine," he croaked as Alice pounded on his back. 

"Merlin," Gaius sipped his tea before setting it down. "Will your chap be staying over? If he is, we can make provisions." 

Merlin wanted to crawl in a hole. "I-I don't know-" 

"Come off it, Merlin. You've watched enough seasons by now to know what will happen. Put out tonight if you don't think you'll make it to the next episode. Ow!" Will rubbed his head as he stepped out of flicking distance from Freya. 

"Merlin's not 'putting out' okay? If he wants to shag his lover, that's his choice and none of your business." 

"Thanks Frey, but can we stop talking about Arthur like he's just a body devoid of soul?" 

"Oh bloody hell. Not you too, Merlin. I'm going to be sick if you're going to spout this soul mate shit." 

"Language, William." Hunith handed him a large empty platter. "Help me in the kitchen, love. Freya, can you help Merlin with the bedrolls?" 

"Can I?" Freya grabbed his hand - she was stronger than she looked - and said, "Come on then, Merlin. Let's go to your bedroom." 

Merlin was only too glad to escape not only this crowd but the cameras all around them. 

~~ 

"Can I ask you something personal, Frey?" Merlin stopped pretending to smooth down his pillow. 

"Yes, you should sleep with this Arthur bloke. You're all pregnant-like." Freya gestured delicately with her hands, imparting an arc of sparkles in their wake. 

"What?!" Merlin stared at the sparkles, distracted for a moment (they were quite pretty). 

"Glowy. You're all glowy, Merlin." 

"Oh. I actually meant a question about you." 

"Me? Merlin, you know all about me. You're one of the few who do." 

"Right." And it was true. He was one of the few who knew about Freya's magic. But that was so far from what he was trying to ask. "Are you-are you with Will?" He tried again. 

"With him on what? I love the guy, but you know as well as I do that Will is wrong a lot." 

"I don't mean- that's... do you? Love him?" 

Freya stared at him for a long time. "Oh, Merlin. Our ship has already sailed." 

"What?" Sometimes Merlin felt like he wasn't quite speaking the same language as Freya. 

"You and I, love. It's a little late for that. You know I adore you, but you were in love with somebody else the whole time we gave it a go." 

"Frey, I-" 

"And you're in love now and I'm happy for you." 

"Thanks Frey. But Will. I mean. Are you and Will dating? That's all I was trying to ask, I swear. I love you both and I want you to be happy and if that's with each other, then-" 

Freya burst into laughter. "Me and Will? Are you daft?" 

"But-but when I called and-" 

"Will was burning the pasta sauce. You know how I feel about pasta. I wasn't going to let him ruin it. Oh, Merlin. For a wise bloke, sometimes you're right daft." 

"That's what I'm always trying to tell him! Except, of course, you put it better." 

Merlin jumped at the sound. Arthur! When did he arrive? 

"God, you are such a prat!" But Merlin couldn't keep the smile off his face if he tried. 

"Arthur? I'm Freya." She extended her hand. "This one's a charmer, Merlin. I'd watch out. I might steal him from you." 

Merlin had a retort ready but Arthur beat him to it. "No chance, I'm afraid." 

Merlin could see Freya practically melt. To be fair, he was feeling mighty warm too. He hugged Arthur to him by the back of his neck, inhaling the fresh laundry of him and the aftershave. "Hey. Have you met mum?" 

"Love her." 

"Will?" 

"I think he prefers William." There was something about the way Arthur said it, the miniscule amount by which his shoulders tensed. It made Merlin tense up. Arthur kissed him, a quick peck - _relax_. "It's alright. As long as you still like me." 

"I might like you better if you help me with all this." Merlin indicated the mess on the floor. Freya really hadn't helped that much. And then when she was laughing over the notion of dating Will, she had flung the sheets into further disarray. 

"Am I meant to sleep in this mess?" Arthur asked dryly. 

"Oi! 'This mess' is perfectly good bedding. It withstood wet ground and high wind, I'd have you know." 

Merlin turned in alarm. _William_. 

"I'll take your words for it." Arthur looked like he was gritting his teeth hard. 

"No need to be sarcastic. You're amongst the hoi polloi now. You can lower your crown." 

"Hoi polloi. I'm impressed. Your vocabulary is not as lacking as I thought." 

Merlin's heart sank. This was what he was afraid of. Two angry blokes in his bedroom (and no snogging in sight). 

* 

Arthur didn't understand what William's problem was. No one else assumed the worst of him. He did get a high rise of an eyebrow from Gaius when he asked for a picture with Hunith. But as soon as he offered to help her in the kitchen, Gaius' eyebrow eased. When he came back out and poured tea, Gaius even smiled at him. But William - it was like the bloke was determined to dislike him on sight. 

And now William was holding Arthur's tabloid name against him. Arthur really wanted challenge him to a duel. Except who did that anymore? And also Merlin would have his head. (And not in a life-affirming way.) 

Arthur returned William's retort for retort, glare for glare. He was pretty sure he was winning too. But Merlin intervened. Arthur felt like a puppy the way Merlin was treating him. "You - sit." At least Merlin directed at William: "You - out." 

Arthur sat. And then yelped and bounced right back up. That sodding zipper had sodding teeth! Outside, he swore he could hear William laughing. But Merlin was concerned and checking on him, and Merlin's hands on him made everything better. 

"Wipe that smirk off your face. You might not have started it but you continued it." 

"But-" 

"No buts." 

"Just zippers, then?" 

"Nipping on your butt, yes. You deserved it." 

Arthur hardly thought so at all. It was all William. "But-" 

Merlin looked at him, eyebrow raised and lips pressed in a warning. "One more word and maybe I don't want you here in my bed." 

"But it's not even your bed! Your bed's over _there_." 

Merlin did that thing with his eyebrows and his wide blue eyes and-and Arthur was losing ground. 

He stared back. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair at all. "I missed you, Merlin." He looked down and reached out and hooked a finger in a loop of Merlin's jeans to drag him back into his personal space. "Didn't you miss me a little?" 

Merlin swallowed noisily and angled in against him and flicked his eyelashes up pretty. " _Maybe_ a little." 

And Arthur knew he was smirking again, not that it made him stop. And when he laid his lips over Merlin's - well, a little manifested as a lot. 


	7. The Sleepover

Arthur slept the best he had in weeks in Merlin's bedrolls. That he didn't have to leave in the morning was the biggest bonus. He reached out and paused, momentarily torn between brushing his hand over Merlin's face and capturing said face, slack with sleep and pastel with the morning light, with his camera. 

He opted for the second. Merlin had a late night, same as him. They'd stayed up till four in the morning, talking in Hunith's garden until even Freya bade them good night and Cedric and Lance both fell asleep. 

"It's gorgeous out here." Arthur had run his thumb over the back of Merlin's ear and settled in further on the rooftop swing. 

"Not too quiet for you?" 

"You're still here so no." 

"Prat. You were nicer when mum was here." And all right. Perhaps that was true. Arthur wanted Hunith to have no doubts when he asked for Merlin's hand. 

"Well, your mum's nicer than you, don't you think?" 

"Just because she fed you." Merlin settled his head on Arthur's lap and hooked his legs over the arm of the swing chair. The movement rocked them, a nice back and forth. 

"Now you're cottoning on." 

Merlin snorted. "Unfortunately I think mum loves you." 

" _Un_ fortunately?" 

"All this - these past few months - don't they feel a little unreal to you? Like maybe tomorrow we'll wake up and it'll all be... different." 

And Arthur put a hand on Merlin's head, cradling it. "Will it?" 

"Not on mum's part." 

"What about on yours?" 

"Do you even need to ask?" 

Arthur thought the answer was pretty obvious as he was _asking_. But Merlin didn't seem to think so. He only pointed to a corner of the sky where the stars were starting to wink out to sleep. "Look." 

At first Arthur didn't know what he was to look at, but then he saw it - or them rather. A fleet of dragons carved from stars. They came closer and closer, swooped past and vanished in the most brilliant light show that Arthur had ever seen. 

He half wished Lance or Cedric were awake. That would have made for some impressive footage. "Have you done that before?" 

"No, not on this scale. But Mordred and I have been practising a few spells." Merlin clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shite." 

"Ah." That clarified a few things for Arthur, like why the GPS malfunctioned near Mordred's home and then miraculously roared back to life once they were out of the forest. "Who knew there were so many magical people? Mages?" 

"Warlocks." And Merlin looked every inch a _warlock_ with his fierce eyes. 

" _Warlocks_ in the world. I guess I'm saying goodbye to one this week. But not on account of his being a warlock," Arthur hurried to say. "It's just _Morgana_ feels strongly that Mordred should go. She thinks he'd be the death of me, being so much younger and cleverer or some such rubbish." 

Merlin laughed. "Remind me never to get on her bad side." 

"Speaking of that, what did you _do_? Morgana adored you. _Merlin_ could do no wrong. What did you say to her in France? She sent me the oddest text this morning. Odd even for her." 

Merlin blanched. 

"Merlin?" 

"Did Morgana -? Her text - what erm, what did it say?" 

"Read it yourself." Arthur fished out his phone and thumbed to the message. "Don't worry, Merlin. She doesn't _actually_ have spies here." 

Merlin sat all the way up as his eyes drowned all the way to the bottom of the text. It worried Arthur enough that he snatched his phone back. "And that's enough Morgana-time." 

"But she's your sister. She's your Freya." 

"I have _never_ kissed Morgana like that." 

Merlin had the good graces to blush. "I meant - she's important." 

Arthur looked Merlin frowning and wrestled Merlin's head down to his chest. "Not as important as you, idiot." 

"You need to work on your terms of endearment, prat." Merlin wrestled his head back out of the loop of Arthur's arm. 

"Pot-kettle much?" Arthur touched his index finger to the tip of Merlin's nose. 

Merlin looked down at his pointer finger and then up. His frown was gone, replaced by a slight whisper of amusement. Arthur counted it as a win. And then Merlin said, "You're still a prat." 

"Well, you're still an idiot." 

"And you're both still quite loud." Lance rubbed at his eyes as he stood from his crouch on the floor. 

"Sorry." Merlin ducked his head and looked sidelong at Arthur. 

"Sorry." Arthur felt compelled to parrot. 

Lance waved them off. "Go to bed. You spent enough time making it." 

And that was true. Not that it was Arthur's fault. Merlin redid all the corners that he helped tuck. Just because they were a hair smoother after Merlin's care didn't make the retucking strictly _necessary_. 

But as Arthur settled into the un-lumpy bed rolls, Merlin hugged tight to his chest, he thought perhaps the tucking and smoothing wasn't all wasted effort. He mouthed at the back of Merlin's neck (because it was there, because it was smelling like Merlin again) and fell asleep before he even got out _goodnight_. 

* 

Merlin fell asleep on pure exhaustion. Pure exhaustion and Arthur's arm around him like a lifeline. He was in no hurry to greet the morning or his consciousness with Morgana's text imprinted there, a sentence. 

But morning (probably more likely noon now) was insistent, knock, knock, knocking on the drum of his sleep. Not to mention Arthur was there too and still loud. "Merlin, are you awake?" Merlin felt teeth scraping light over his earlobe. Then lips. Then tongue licking back behind his ear. And _gods_ , so he was still sensitive there. 

Merlin groaned as he reached back, hand and neck both working to bring Arthur's lips to his. Arthur licked at the seam of his mouth and then in between, tracing the dips of his upper lips, the tip of his tongue. 

He kissed back greedily, swallowing Arthur's exhales, moans. He took himself in hand as Arthur started rutting against him, undulating with all the grace of a swimmer. Merlin remembered being lost in this current. He was getting there now too, especially when Arthur started pushing aside all of the pesky fabrics between them. 

Arthur's mouth was wide open, messy over his chin, when the knocking came on the door. 

"Morning, love birds. We can hear you." Freya told them helpfully. 

" _Shite_ -fuck!" 

"Yep. Heard that too!" 

Merlin laid his head on Arthur's shoulder and inhaled one long breath. Their timing sucked. Their timing really sucked. 

"My walls are thicker." Arthur sighed. "So much thicker." 

"So's your noggin!" 

Merlin rolled his eyes. Will again. At least Arthur wasn't encouraging him this time. Arthur only tugged sloth-like at their pants and things until they were both proper, company-proper, camera-proper, mum-proper. _Too_ proper. 

Merlin hung on, hugging Arthur aggressively to his chest. At least hugs were not loud. Hugs they could have all to themselves - arms secured around each other and noses resting against necks. 

~~ 

With his nose pressed to the elephant's trunk, Merlin grinned. Somewhere a camera or two went off. His fantasy date with Arthur was a little ridiculous. In the best way. Thus far he and Arthur had spent a whole night together (red eye flight to Thailand) and a whole day trekking around sampling the local cuisine. 

"Daegal would be so jealous." He bumped Arthur's shoulder at one point in the market. 

"Daegal? I would have thought Gwaine. Did he ever stop eating? I don't understand his metabolism." 

Merlin had to laugh. "Yeah, no, you wouldn't." 

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you calling me fat?" Arthur had checked his stomach in the most adorable way. It made Merlin pop another piece of chicken (or was that lamb?) into Arthur's mouth. 

"Don't worry. You don't eat nearly as much as Gwaine," he teased. "He never stops working that mouth, does he?" 

"I know someone else with a mouth." Arthur had stubbornly refused to look at the fried offerings they were passing. 

Merlin stayed behind to buy a piece. For later. They would need the fuel after all the things he planned to do with Arthur tonight. 

"Are you stuffing food in your purse?!" 

"It's not a purse, you prat. Not that there's anything wrong with purses. They're really handy." And Merlin shouldered his messenger bag more comfortably across his chest. 

They've been cautious thus far, going only as far as to brush the occasional knuckles together. For all anyone could see, they could have been on _Survivor_ (only with fewer crickets ingested, just as Merlin preferred it). 

But now they were in some kind of secluded alcove, a beach with water clear down to the blue and few, so few other people around - just the crew actually. Arthur was fidgeting with his camera, taking too many pictures of the scenery, even for a tourist. Merlin wanted to poke fun at him, but it was lovely to see Arthur smile his private smiles as he stared down at whatever it was that he'd captured - the prat was more private about his photos than a princess with her forbidden love letters. Merlin had no idea if Arthur was taking pictures of the sand or the elephant feet or the blooms of pinks and bright reds by the elephant feet. 

It took Lance's gentle probing for Arthur to set down his camera. "Whenever you're ready, we'll get started filming your afternoon swim." 

Merlin petted the elephant absent-mindedly. It was all rough skin and the kindest eyes. He felt an instant affinity to it. Arthur's spirit animal this was. Especially when the beast shook its head vehemently as if it understood, just as Arthur would. Merlin grinned at it. 

"Just as soon as Merlin there is ready to stop petting his new favourite." Arthur unwound the camera strap from around his neck and started stowing it away. 

"What? Jealous?" He kissed the elephant's cheek, exaggerating purely for show. And then promptly spat out sand. 

Arthur laughed and laughed, falling over onto the soft butter-coloured beach. 

"If you call me an idiot again, I swear," Merlin glared at him. 

Arthur sat up, still all grins, and shrugged. Then shrugged out of his shirt altogether and looked at him in challenge. "The last one in the water is it!" 

"What are we? Ten?" But Merlin stepped away from the elephant and quickly wiggled out of his outer coverings. He'd been ready for the beach since the plane ride. 

They ran and ran and leapt into the water at the same time, cannonballing the heck out of tranquillity. 

Merlin was all laughter when Arthur swam over to him. "I believe I won." 

"You always _believe_ you win though." He ducked out from under Arthur's arm where Arthur was trying to dunk his head underwater. 

"But I actually did this time." 

"No, I got here first because my legs are longer. I'm taller, remember?" 

"Centimetres do not count." 

"Yes they do. Add enough together and you've got the whole length of this beach. Add even more and eventually you get to the outer band of our galaxy." 

Arthur was looking at him with that expression on his face. The one that said _you're so weird, Merlin. How do I know you? And why do I still like you?_ Or at least that was how Merlin liked to interpret it. 

Arthur dunked him while he was musing over Arthur's stupid face. 

"You - you prat!" Merlin spluttered as he spit out water. At least it looked clear and clean. Although as his mother had always reminded him, germs often looked perfectly clear and clean to the naked eye. Even to his magic eyes, Merlin had to confess. 

He did the only thing he could. He dunked Arthur underwater too. So they could be wet and breathless together and maybe push at each other's shoulders and grab at each other's slippery skin and swim around like dolphin pups at play. 

Eventually they settled into something of a hug, Merlin's legs wrapped around Arthur's waist and Arthur's arms crossed around Merlin's back. Arthur was not so furtively brushing his hands down to feel over the tattoo. Merlin smiled into Arthur's ear and let it be. 

Then Lance called out to them. "Guys - we've got great footage of the horseplay and such. How about some actual talking now?" 

"What about kissing?" Arthur fake-ate at Merlin's face like a slobbery dog. 

"God, now I have to wash my face." Merlin made as if to splash his own face and then magicked the water to arc over Arthur at the last minute. 

Arthur's face was priceless. 

"This wasn't actually the kind of talking I was talking about." Lance looked slightly sunburned and slightly pained. "According to Tristan and Isolde's notes, Arthur - you're unsure whether you can trust Merlin not to dump you again this time around. You're to ferret out his true intentions towards you while he does the same. And... go." 

Merlin looked at Arthur, who looked like a golden wet retriever pup blinking in the sun. 

"What about it, Arthur? Are thine intentions true?" 

Arthur blinked again. "Gods, you could be my husband one day. _You_." 

Merlin had to work to swallow down the sudden surge of feelings at the words _husband_ and _you_ and _one day_ coming out of Arthur's mouth. 

"You are so romantic." But he hugged Arthur hard and kissed him hard too. 

"I try." 

Merlin snorted. And then Arthur was kissing him again as he crowded closer and closer, pushing Merlin right over up against the conveniently located stack of rocks. And Merlin stopped trying to think. 

* 

Arthur was impatient to see Merlin for this round of dates, to see Merlin period. So Merlin was first. And gods but was Arthur glad. He couldn't wait to get Merlin alone. That he had to talk his hard-on down while Merlin's mother stood on the other side of Merlin's childhood bedroom door was traumatic enough. That he had to wait another three days for the rose ceremony to pass and then all the visas to go through was worse. But waiting for Merlin was worth every bit of it. 

Thailand he'd been to before. But not with Merlin. Merlin with his curious eyes delighting in every new delicacy. Merlin with his slender long fingers pinching a piece of this and breaking off a piece of that. Well, Arthur had the best day even with his jet lag. He wouldn't much mind either getting fat eating from Merlin's hands. 

It was Merlin's love for the local people (and elephant) that did Arthur in though. Merlin gave of his own purse little gold chocolate coins to the children and real Thai baht, too. He brought all manners of trinkets from the local artisans and praised most of the foodstuff they tried. And then the elephant ride - the whole way, from the greeting - "Oh, aren't you a beauty, love?" - to the kiss goodbye, Merlin's hands were a constant gentling massage, comforting the giant creature until it was nudging its head against Merlin's like a spoiled house cat. 

Arthur loved it best when he finally got Merlin to himself though. The water was cool and Merlin was there. The only pity was the cameras, circling like sharks. 

Over dinner alfresco they ate with blindfolds over their eyes and tried to guess what it was that they were stuffing in their mouths. "I'm going to guess... not chicken." Merlin chew-said from across the table, a piece of mystery meat still obviously on his tongue, mangling his words. 

Arthur didn't blame him. About the only thing he could positively identify was the water and the Merlot. Nothing else registered. This was ridiculous as far as the show's challenges went but in a tasty way. 

When he took off his blinder, Arthur had to laugh. The dishes were labelled with all things English (with Thai twists). There was shepherd's pie with braised duck and some kind of paste. There was fish and chips with trout and calamari and plantains. There were sandwiches with curry sauce and salads with mint garnishes. There were a lot of home foods set on spice. 

Merlin's face set on laughter looking at the spread they've just devoured. 

"Did you come up with this?" 

Arthur wished he did. He shook his head. "Afraid I can't take credit for this." 

"Another one of those life lessons, you think?" 

He looked at Merlin in confusion. 

"We're familiar to each other." 

Arthur wanted to say yes but he wanted to say no as well. There were sides to Merlin he might take years to uncover. "Somewhat," he said. 

"Fair enough. But go with it, okay? We're familiar with each other, like we're familiar with shepherd's pie and tea and here they are, sort of, set out before us dressed a little differently and we're clueless. We couldn't guess past 'not chicken'. So, likewise, there's probably still a lot of newness to discover between us even given our history." 

Like how wise Merlin was sometimes, Arthur marvelled. But to admit that was pushing it dangerously close to besotted I-love-you declarations. He teased instead. "So, what you're saying is you're odd and you're always going to be odd and there will be no end to your quirks?" 

Merlin rolled his eyes at him. "Freshness, Arthur. The word is freshness. I'll always be new and fresh to you." 

"Let's see about that." He wrapped his arms around Merlin's middle and buried his nose in Merlin's neck. "You could pass for fresh. Somewhat." 

"I smell like the streets or the sea at best!" Merlin laughed and leaned out of his embrace for more tea. 

"You're going to stay up all night with all that tea." 

"And?" Merlin looked at him over the rim of his cup, all sultry and not mum-proper or camera-proper or _any_ shade of proper. And at the moment Arthur didn't much care. He wanted Merlin to keep looking at him like that and he wanted Lance's camera out of the picture. 

"I'm ready to turn in." He faked a big yawn. 

Merlin looked at him dubiously and then at his watch. "It's... nine." 

"Jet lag." 

"All right, old man. Let's get you to bed then." 

"Really?" 

Merlin laughed. "Are you coming or not?" 

"You're okay with sharing a room?" Arthur all of the sudden wanted to make sure. He wanted Merlin. Gods, but he wanted Merlin so much. But he also wanted Merlin to want him back. 

"You don't snore that loudly." 

"I do not snore!" 

"I was next to you on the plane and my ears work just fine. You snore, darling." 

_Darling_. Arthur hesitated before taking Merlin's hand in his. 

"Will you be inviting the ladies to hear you snore, too?" Merlin fidgeted, fingers twitchy in Arthur's hand. 

Arthur grabbed Merlin's fingers to still them. "Merlin, I want you to trust me. Can you do that?" 

Merlin nodded, gave his hand a small squeeze back. 

"How's Morgana?" Merlin asked as he headed towards their luxury suite, the one that Arthur knew to contain a gigantic claw-footed tub and a king-sized canopy bed. 

Arthur didn't want to think about his sister just then. "Still weird," he said. "Can we not-? Let's not worry about her, shall we?" 

Merlin ducked his head and then turned back. He was smiling a little strangely but Arthur thought perhaps it was the lighting. The passageway was lit with flickering candles, winks of red and cream. 

~~ 

"Let me," Merlin said. 

So Arthur let him. He sat back against the slope of the tub and leaned into Merlin's touch as Merlin washed his hair. He felt wonderfully pampered, the prince that others always seemed to view him, just because he was heir to the king of real estate. But here with Merlin, he felt cared for, a person beyond titles and business cards. 

Merlin took his time, working his magic over Arthur's muscles, hand span by hand span. Arthur wasn't sure if real magic was involved or not, but it felt like it was just Merlin. And wonderful. Merlin worked all of the day's travel out of his calves. Merlin worked all the tensions of standing straight and smiling right for the camera out of his toes. Merlin waded into the water and let Arthur wash his back. 

They made it to the bed clean and awake and utterly breathless. Arthur didn't even much care that he literally threw Merlin over his shoulders and carried him like some caveman. He needed to. The whole drawn-out tease had left him needy and impatient. 

He wanted to be close as he could with Merlin. And it looked like Merlin wanted the same, if the desperate grabs at him and Merlin kissing him everywhere he could reach was any indication. 

"Fuck me," Merlin said. 

Then there was that. Arthur wasn't going to argue. Much. 

"Soon," he said. 

He palmed Merlin as he kissed him quiet, kissed him thoroughly. He pinned Merlin's arms in the crease between plush purple pillows and sank his mouth over Merlin's to kiss all the salt from it, all the curry and all the mint. He kissed even the elephant out of him. Until there was just Merlin kissing and straining up against him. 

"Shh." Arthur kissed over his chin and Adam's apple, over his delicate collarbones and over his pebbled nipples peaking in the tease of the rattan fan spinning and spinning somewhere above them. 

He nipped one and was gratified when Merlin cried out. "Arthur, _fuck_." 

Arthur pumped him leisurely and continued kissing down over lovely skin. He lingered over the protrusion of a bottom rib, tracing it with a tongue until Merlin laughed, his ticklish nerves overriding his horny nerves. And well, Arthur can't have that. For long. He licked down smooth from the jut of a hipbone to between Merlin's thighs. 

The groan was more like it. 

Arthur mouthed over Merlin's balls. _See you later._ He mouthed up to suck on the bottom of Merlin's dick, just a light release, more like a tease. _Sorry. See you later too._ He flipped Merlin quickly, pushing Merlin's hips onto the soft of the beddings. _Hello tattoo. Hello beautiful curvature of Merlin's arse._ Arthur licked above the tat, just circling for a moment, drawing out the wait. 

"Fuck, Arthur, fuck me." 

Arthur ignored him only a little. He put both palms over Merlin's arse and thumbed the cheeks apart. He blew over the middle. _Hi. Landing soon. Love you._ He licked around the tattoo and down into the crack. Merlin squirmed and pushed back and tried to open up for him. 

"Shh, love. I've got you." 

Merlin groaned louder. 

Arthur went to work. He mouthed around the tightly furled, dancing closer and closer until they were touching, touching, downright kissing. Arthur added tongue, to the outer rim and then inner, inner. Until Merlin was reduced to all groans and hip movements, trying to speed up the rhythm. 

Arthur sneaked a hand around to help relieve Merlin a little. _Told you I'd be back._ Merlin bit at the sheets. And Arthur sighted the lube. In a basket. How considerate. Or perhaps creepy. Before he could ask, Merlin floated the basket over. Contrary to what some folks might say, Arthur could take a hint. 

He coated his fingers generously, two digits slicked up to the max. He rubbed them over Merlin's hole in consolation. _It'll be okay, love._ And he worked a finger in, the movement making Merlin still. Arthur suddenly desperately needed to see Merlin's face. He wasn't a monk the three years they were apart, but he could never look at their faces. With Merlin he wanted confirmation at every turn that this was Merlin. That Merlin loved them together too. 

Merlin's eyes were the richest blue and too many thoughts swam in them as usual for Arthur to tease them all out. Arthur kissed him. (It was a need.) And then Arthur mouthed down over Merlin's cock as he worked another finger in next to the first. Merlin arched deliciously, all taut skin and tendons standing up in relief. 

Merlin's head angled back until Arthur had to strain to see more than neck and chin and nose. Arthur coated another finger and added it to the pot, stirring, stirring till he could feel the boiling point, the give, when everything melted perfectly and Merlin's body commenced trying to suck Arthur's fingers in. 

"Fuck," Arthur cursed around Merlin's dick. 

"What I've been trying to tell you." Merlin balanced unsteadily on his arms. 

"Wanted to take my time, make you come undone." 

Merlin worked his hips, fucking himself on Arthur's fingers. "Pretty. Undone. Already," he panted. 

"Fuck." Arthur was only human. He reached for the lube but it flew out of his hand. " _Fuck_ ," he said in a different tone when Merlin's fingers worked down around him, pumping him wetter and impossibly harder. " _Fuck_." 

Merlin laughed at him. " _Somebody_ wanted to take his time." 

"Don't want - _gods_ \- to hurt you." 

Merlin kissed him, hard and perfect and not nearly enough. "You won't." Merlin's voice seemed to waver. But then again Merlin's whole body was quaking, ready and too sexy by half. 

Arthur held himself still as he could as Merlin slicked protection down over him and lined them up. Arthur looked his fill of Merlin. Beautiful Merlin with eyelashes splayed down dark as he watched himself take in more and more of Arthur. Beautiful Merlin's shoulder glazed down one side with the light from the next room. Tantalising Merlin's neck offered up close. Arthur closed the distance in between them and sucked hard. 

He was making a mark, he knew. Merlin sighed as he bottomed out over Arthur. Arthur bit him and sucked another hickey, the start to a string of blooms over Merlin's graceful neck. 

Merlin moaned and started moving. And Arthur couldn't help the sound that came out of him. It was never like this with anyone else. It could never be like this with anyone else. 

Merlin kissed his forehead and grabbed his face to tilt it, to better kiss it. And Arthur had the opposite of objections. Merlin's kisses were the movements of his breaths. Arthur could ride this wave forever. His own release slapped at him, _oh, oh, oh_ , as Merlin's legs worked, slapping thighs down to meet Arthur's thighs again and again and again. 

"Arthur. God, Arthur." Merlin's fingernails scratched over his back, the exactly soundtrack of Arthur's mind. Arthur fisted Merlin's cock and stripped it with intent. 

"C'mon, darling. I've got you." 

Merlin looked like he wanted to argue but had no breath with which to do so. He came instead, riding Arthur hard as he worked through his tremors. He collapsed mouth first on Arthur's neck when he was done and licked at it in circles and then nipped sharply as he arched up again, working his hips in circles once more. 

"C'mon, darling. I've got you." Merlin grinned at him, parroting back his words from before. 

Arthur would have laughed. Only, he was too busy coming, spilling and spilling up into the tight grasp of Merlin. 

* 

Merlin watched Arthur sleep, the trusting way Arthur leaned against him, all slack-mouthed and loose-limbed. He ran his fingers over Arthur's hair again, drawing small trellises here and there, little intricate patterns that went nowhere. 

Thailand turned out to be the land of elephants, actual and figurative. He and Arthur - they haven't talked about the giant green-eyed elephant in the room at all, about Morgana and her sudden disapproval of him. 

Merlin last saw her - at least he _thought_ he saw her - when he said goodbye to Mordred at the rose ceremony. They were hugging, him and Mordred, when Merlin saw a flash of green amongst the greens. But then he blinked and the Morgana-shaped flash had disappeared. "You're the one, Merlin. I know it." Mordred had smiled at him. 

"We'll see." 

"Keep in touch." Mordred was solemn again, levelling his steely stare. It relaxed Merlin with its familiarity. Yes, this was the Mordred he knew, the silent one with the intense eyes. 

"You too." Merlin had smiled at him. "Take care." 

Ever since then (and before, if Merlin was honest) he'd been plagued with doubt about staying on the show, about staying with Arthur. He could come up with no other alternatives. Morgana _had_ to have seen something, something catastrophic, to turn so suddenly cold towards him. 

He didn't know what it could be, how he could hurt Arthur, but that had to be it. Morgana wouldn't send daily texts asking Arthur to look out and be careful otherwise. 

Not that Arthur took her seriously. "Morgana's turning into a right mother hen," he remarked earlier when he received yet another text. "You don't think she's pregnant?" 

"Maybe she just loves you a lot. For some reason." 

Arthur side-eyed him and sent her a text back, and that was that. 

Still, the unsettling feeling Merlin's had ever since the best friend episode sat on him heavy like an elephant. 

He petted Arthur absent-mindedly, pulling on the blond curls a little. 

Arthur turned in his sleep, settling his head down more comfortably against Merlin's chest. Merlin looked at him, at his perfectly oblivious face. _I love you._ Merlin thought. _I think I love you enough to let you go._

And Merlin thought about Gwen. Perhaps she would be good for Arthur. She cared for him. That much was clear. And Arthur cared for her too, though he never said it in so many words. Perhaps that was all anyone needed. Perhaps love was an overrated thing that people who were afraid of losing people made up to make themselves feel better. 

Arthur grunted in his sleep and wrapped his arms around Merlin. And Merlin sank down from where he sat propped up on pillows to hug Arthur back. At least they would have had tonight. Merlin pressed his lips to Arthur's lips. _Goodbye_ , he thought. 

Arthur's eyes fluttered open, lazy and happy and beautifully blue. Arthur kissed him back, insistent presses of lips and a tight circle of arms. "Merlin." Arthur's hand travelled down to cup him. 

Merlin's heart clenched even as his dick jumped. He sighed and tried to smile for Arthur. _Remember me like this, loving you._ "Arthur." 

Arthur kissed his nose and kissed his chin and kissed at the hickeys on his neck. "When we're old and wrinkly and disgusting, will you remember me as I am tonight?" 

"What? Young and gorgeous?" 

Arthur grinned at him. "You said it." 

Merlin didn't feel like talking anymore. When he was old and wrinkly and disgusting, he hoped his heart won't be as torn asunder as it was at this moment. He kissed Arthur hard to shut him up. 

Arthur obliged easily, working their cocks lazily together as they kissed and kissed and kissed. 

Merlin slicked up his hand and replaced Arthur's with his own, tugging at the both of them with a steady rhythm. 

Arthur went further. He pushed his legs apart and guided Merlin's fingers to him. 

" _Ar_ thur." 

"You're still the only one I've ever had like this." Arthur pushed the tip of one of Merlin's finger in even as he winced at the intrusion. 

Merlin's breath caught. "We don't-we don't have to." 

Arthur looked at him and looked away. "No, I suppose not. We have all the time in the world to-" 

"No." Merlin hated this, hated Arthur's insecurity, hated Arthur's overconfidence, hated whatever fates had in store for them, horrible things that Morgana foresaw. "I mean yes. You're young and fucking fit and -" 

Arthur kissed him quiet and that was all right with him. Merlin kissed him back and moved his finger again, experimentally circling wider, opening Arthur up. 

When Arthur's legs were hooked over Merlin's shoulders, Merlin buried breathless inside him, Arthur did the darndest thing. He laughed. 

Merlin tried to process the vibrations that sent through him, making him impossibly close to coming again already. "What was that for?" He managed to pant out as he held still, held Arthur still. 

"Nothing. Just happy, Merlin. Just happy to be here with you." 

Merlin pulled out most of the way and pushed in slow, feeling every inch of the slide, Arthur gripped tight around him. He didn't answer. Couldn't. Not in words. Just sighs and groans as his hands squeezed around Arthur's arms. 

_Remember me. Remember me._ He pounded in as he found the perfect angle. 

Arthur gripped his hair and grunted. Arthur was gorgeous like this, a fighter and a lover, strong and vulnerable all at once. Merlin was going to miss him worse this time around. 

Last time they split after a spat, hurt buttered up thick on both sides of their hearts. Last time they didn't have a chance for a last night together or even a goodbye kiss. 

This time, he couldn't bear not having this last night and a last kiss too, to remember Arthur by. 

Arthur squeezed around him and Merlin fell out of the loop of thoughts swimming thick in his skull. "Gods, you're perfect." 

Arthur stopped a moment to look at him. "Merlin? Are you possessed?" 

"Must be." 

"Thought so." 

Merlin wanted to cry. He loved this man. He _loved_ this man. 

_Set him free then_ , a voice said. It sounded suspiciously like Morgana. 

~~ 

Merlin woke to Arthur's lips wrapped tight around him. He slung an arm over his eyes and tried to shade out the morning. 

But both Arthur and the sunshine were blond and hot and insistent. _Wakey, wakey._

"God." Merlin shifted and inadvertently shoved his dick up further into the tight cave of Arthur's mouth. 

"Do it." Arthur said around him as he flipped them. 

Merlin slapped his palms down on the mattress and tried not to fall over. God, he was straddling Arthur's mouth and half awake and completely hard again. 

Arthur's hands braced around his hips and pressed him forward and backward, forward and backward in instruction. Bossy bastard. Merlin closed his eyes and tried not to lose his mind. He waited until Arthur's hands stilled to a grip and pushed up into the heat, small steady thrusts that made his thighs burn. 

Arthur pushed him harder. "C'mon, Merlin. That all you've got?" 

As soon as Merlin deciphered Arthur's muffled challenge, he started fucking Arthur's mouth in earnest. It felt perfect, the press of Arthur's tongue against him and the brace of Arthur's hands on him. 

Merlin didn't have space for thinking, just thrusting. Arthur hummed around him, some pop anthem, it sounded like. (Something Spice Girls?) Stupid adorable prat. 

"Arthur, Arthur, Arthur," Merlin panted. Nothing else made sense but Arthur at the moment. 

Arthur grinned around him all smug and sucked hard. 

"Fuck." Merlin was losing all control. And then Arthur dug his nails in. _Go_. Merlin went for it, riding out his bliss over Arthur's tongue. 

When he came to, Arthur was kissing him, sweet pre-teen kisses (only, tinged with come). Merlin closed his eyes and kissed and kissed back. 

"Fancy a wash?" Arthur went duck lipped on him, adorable as he pouted and then beamed. 

"Race you down to the beach?" 

"Wearing that?" 

Merlin looked down at his wearing nothing and shrugged. "If they can't use the footage then they can't use the footage." 

Arthur laughed, a lovely belly laugh as he threw his head back. "Countdown to Lance's heart attack in three..." 

"Two..." 

"One!" 

They ran, they ran like the wind out into the cool morning air. Merlin had not a care in the world for the moment. Arthur was butterflying his way across the waves and shaking out his hair and laughing in the sunrise. 

Merlin swam circles around him until Arthur made a grab for him to bring his mouth close for a kiss. "Morning." 

"Morning yourself. You can check skinny dipping in Thailand off your bucket list now." 

"Never was on my bucket list but all right. Check." Arthur splayed his palms over Merlin's lower back and drew him in closer so they were nose to nose and barely able to look in each other's eyes without going cross-eyed. 

The clatter from the beach drew both of their attention. Lance. Camera equipment scattered at his feet. 

Oops. 


	8. The End

Arthur mostly followed the scripts for his dates with Gwen and Sophia. But even without the scripted peck with Gwen, he knew he was saying goodbye to Sophia next. He didn't want to string her along. With Gwen there was at least some understanding there. 

"I heard you went skinny dipping with Merlin," she had laughed over their breakfast on Waikiki beach. 

Arthur tried not to look in Lance's direction. "Yep." 

"Had fun?" She winked at him. 

"Gwaine-level fun." 

"That much!" She bit into her French toast and brushed powdered sugar off the corner of her lips. "Good on you. Merlin's a good bloke." 

"Sorry, you can't have him." 

Gwen laughed. 

"No, I imagine not." She sipped her coffee. "You though. I get you to myself today, don't I? I've always wanted to learn a traditional dance. I can't wait for this luau!" 

"You'll be brilliant." 

"Mm-hmm, and you'd be Mr. Flattery." They carried on teasing each other easily. The peck wasn't until the end of the day, scheduled at the end of the luau, at sunset. 

"Lance." Arthur had argued with him. "I don't have to do this. I've hardly followed the damn script in Thailand." 

Lance just looked at him, pained. "I know you didn't. That's why you need to now. Gwen's an exceptional lady. You'd be lucky to kiss her." 

"It'd be... It wouldn't mean..." 

"I know." Lance squared his shoulders. "So do it." 

So Arthur did it, let Lance direct him and Gwen to where their lips would meet with the sun in between them. "This is going to look cheesier than a cheese stick, isn't it?" 

"Afraid so." 

Now all of that was done and Arthur had said goodbye to a tearful Sophia. Gwen and Merlin were both on their way to the Pendragon residence to film the penultimate episode. Since Uther's schedule only permitted one day for the show, both finalists were to attend the family dinner together. 

Arthur was just glad it was Merlin and Gwen. Those two were thick as thieves. 

Sure enough, when the doorbell rang, Merlin's arm was held horizontal as he escorted Gwen into the foyer, a ridiculous bow tie on his person. 

"You two match!" Leon pointed and only then did Arthur notice that Gwen was wearing a dress with a bow tie across her middle. They were both in a striking red. 

"We do. We thought we'd prom it up." Gwen grinned at Merlin in some private joke. _Queen_ , Arthur thought. It had to be something about being prom queen. 

"You look beautiful." _Like a couple._ Arthur's heart seized with momentary jealousy. He kissed them both on the cheek and ushered them into the family room. Morgana and Uther were sat there, casually glam as they waited to greet their guests, their possible future in-laws. 

"Merlin Emrys, is it?" Uther levelled a look at him. 

Arthur tensed up. And then he remembered Merlin's remarks about turning Uther into a toad. Somehow that made him feel better. 

"Yes, sir." 

"Our Merlin is quite special," Morgana started, smiling her diplomatic smile. "He wins over all the boys, am I right?" And she winked at him. 

"And all the girls," Gwen laughed. 

"Gwen, hello." Morgana was visibly warmer as she hugged her in greeting. 

"Okay, that's enough." Arthur pretended to pry Morgana off of Gwen. "Not your date." 

"Well, you have two. I say I get two as well." 

They were still bickering by the time they were seated, Gwen and Merlin flanking him. It took Uther's clearing of his throat to bring the conversation back on topic. 

"Welcome to my home," Uther held up his glass of brandy. "I trust Arthur had chosen to the best of his abilities a suitable companion. But as we all know, this is really about me." He smiled charmingly. "So I'll ask a few questions, if you'd bear with me." 

Arthur gulped and hoped the questions would be appropriate. He knew Isolde had prepared a list for Uther and Morgana to choose from. He also knew his father was likely never to read such a memo. 

Sure enough, the first question out of Uther's mouth made Arthur want to sink into depth of the Earth. "How do you intend to support yourselves for the rest of your lives?" 

While Uther grilled Gwen and Merlin on whether they planned on robbing the Pendragons blind, Arthur finished his glass of wine and poured another. 

"Father," Morgana finally cut in. "Financial compatibility is one consideration of course, but what about the heart? Don't you want to know whether Gwen and Merlin here love Arthur?" 

Uther blinked at her. "Of course. Of course I do." 

They turned their attention to Merlin and Gwen, Uther to Gwen and Morgana to Merlin. 

Gwen spluttered under Uther's gaze as she fished around for a polite way to say no. "With all due respect, sir, I can't-I can't tell you that. Just yet. I'm still processing everything, you see and-" 

"What Gwen over there is trying to say," Merlin came to her rescue, "is that she doesn't want to reveal her cards in front of the competition." He pointed to himself. "And I don't blame her." 

Uther seemed satisfied with that answer while Morgana seemed to fume over it. Arthur didn't understand it at all. Morgana adored Gwen. Why would she want to embarrass her? And what did she have against Merlin? 

"For what it's worth," Arthur tried for humour, "I'm sure they're both madly in love with me. I am a Pendragon, after all, am I not?" 

"Hear, hear." Uther raised his glass high in a toast. 

The rest of the night passed more or less uneventfully. Still, Arthur was glad when it was over. Even fake dating Gwen at this point of the show felt wrong to do in front of Merlin. Arthur knew he had hurt him before with the Lamia hoax. 

When he walked them out individually, Arthur made sure to let Merlin know. "I hope you don't think this is in any way a repeat of the Lamia incident." 

Merlin blinked. "The Lamia incident. _Arthur_ , I know. Gwen is nothing like that." 

"No, she's not." Morgana sneaked up on them. "May I borrow Merlin a moment?" And she disappeared with him before Arthur got a chance to say no. 

~~ 

Arthur didn't get to see Merlin again until right before the final rose ceremony. He had no idea what Morgana said to him, but Arthur gave her a piece of his mind when he saw her sauntering back from her talk with Merlin empty-armed. 

"Where's Merlin? Morgana, did you kidnap him? I want my Merlin back." 

She'd only shrugged. "He had to go." 

"Without saying goodbye?" 

She didn't answer, just opened and closed her mouth like a sad fish. 

"Morgana, what is it?" 

"Something wrong?" Uther emerged from his study, finally done with taking another work call. 

"Nothing." Morgana changed in an instant, grinning. "I was just thinking what a great problem Arthur has now to choose between Gwen and Merlin." 

"About that." Uther waved them into his office. "Did I ever tell you about Merlin's father?" 

_What_? "No." 

"Balinor Emrys." Uther sounded like he was miles away. 

"You knew him?" 

"He did some work for me, yes." Uther walked over to the large bay windows and looked out at the sun setting low over the city. "He was an expert carpenter. Better than Leon's father. Better than even Leon, I dare say." 

"You never mentioned it." 

"No. It was another time." And the way Uther's voice dragged through the word like it was waterlogged, Arthur knew this had to mean it was his mother's time. 

"What happened?" 

"There are some forces in this world that no one understands, Arthur." 

_Love_ , Arthur thought. _Hate_. 

"Magic?" Morgana crossed her arms. 

Uther spun to stare at her. 

"So you _do_ know about magic!" Arthur didn't mean to point at his father, but there his pointer finger was, accusatory. 

"You know?" Both Morgana and Uther rounded on him. 

"Just recently." He lowered his hand. "Why is it such a secret?" 

Uther and Morgana shared a look. 

"What are you not telling me?" 

A silent look passed between Morgana and Uther and she went quickly to the heavy wooden doors to push them closed. Arthur saw Leon's surprised blink before the door closed on him. 

"Sit down, Arthur." 

Arthur felt pinpricks of alarm. Nothing good ever came of being commanded to sit. He sat. 

Morgana laid her hands over his shoulders and squeezed. "Arthur, you came out to us three years ago." 

"What does that have to do with anything?" 

Morgana sat in the chair next to his. "I've never told you, but I was so proud of you. It made me think I could come out." 

"You're bi, too?" 

She smiled indulgently at him. "No." 

"Oh." And then he scrunched up his eyebrows. "What?" 

"I came out to father as a magic user." 

"Oh. Warlock," Arthur said on automatic. "Mer... I was told you're called warlocks." 

Morgana arched her eyebrow. "My proper title is Seer. You remember all the nightmares I had?" 

Arthur did. Morgana used to scream until she got on the good sleeping pills and, she claimed, some magical bracelet. 

"They were visions. I still have them but I can control them better now." 

He squeezed her hand. "But why all the secrecy? Why do you have to come out at all?" 

"Why do you think?" Morgana looked over at their father. 

Uther looked older as he leaned over, hair balding in spots, and sat on the edge of his desk. "Your mother died of magic, Arthur. There are dark, dark crimes committed every day with magic. It's not all harmless." 

His mother. Arthur couldn't speak momentarily, couldn't even breathe. "But - but there are dark crimes committed every day with knives and guns and ignorance. What does it have to do specifically with magic?" 

Morgana sat up straighter in her chair. "It only took me three years to get father to come around to the same conclusion." 

Uther looked long suffering as he heaved a sigh. "You were conceived of magic, Arthur. The sorceress who made it possible neglected to tell your mother and I that the price was her life. We learnt the hard way." 

Arthur didn't know what to say. "So I really did kill her." 

Uther got back up and faced the windows again, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets. "No. I did. I wanted a child so dearly with your mother that _I_ did. I killed her." 

"Father." 

"It's true. And in my grief, I blamed magic, absolutely despised it. I discovered Balinor wielding magic and I made it impossible for him to procure employment in these parts. He didn't leave of his own volition. I drove him out." 

Arthur's mind raced. "And Merlin - he doesn't know." 

Uther looked down at the plush carpet. "No." 

"You have to tell him." 

"I don't _have_ to anything!" Uther snapped. 

"Then _I_ have to tell him." 

"Is he your final choice?" 

"Arthur!" Morgana cried out. "You don't have to make a decision right away." 

"What is the matter with you? Why are you turning against Merlin because of his magic... -al background?" 

Morgana shook her head. "I'm not. It's just - I saw-" 

"Don't. I don't want to know what you saw, Morgana. Spare me my gory future." 

"But that's not-" 

Arthur didn't stay to hear the rest, which was a bit rash of him perhaps. But his mother. Merlin's father. Merlin. Arthur couldn't bear to hear anymore. 

* 

Merlin was having the most frustrating day. For one, he now had blush (glittered) and eyeliner on, some of which he had managed to wipe off. Only _some_. For two, he couldn't reach Arthur before the final rose ceremony no matter how many times he'd pleaded with Isolde and Tristan. "Where is he? I only need a minute." 

"Patience, grasshopper." Tristan had patted his back. And Merlin had wondered how Tristan would like being a grasshopper for a day. 

Thirdly, now that he'd finally spotted Arthur across the breezeway, Arthur wasn't even looking his direction but down at his mobile. 

Merlin studied Arthur's profile, the gorgeous way he shined in the sunlight. It contrasted with the shadows over his face, the lovely dark dip above his lips. Merlin breathed out. He wanted to do this right. He wanted Arthur to understand. 

After the Pendragon family dinner, which was fifteen shades of awkward, Merlin finally had a conversation, if one could call it that, with Morgana. He couldn't say that he was any less confused or hurt afterward, but at least he understood now just how firm she stood in her opinion of him. "We may not be full siblings, Merlin, but I am quite fond of Arthur. And I won't let you hurt him. You've left him before, and we both know you can do it again. Do we understand each other?" 

Merlin understood her just fine. "Are you a Seer?" He had to ask. The look on her face was enough of an answer. 

"Goodbye, Morgana." He'd wrenched his arm free. 

She didn't answer him. 

"Merlin!" Lance clapped him on the back. The suddenness of it made him jump. He spun around and was half-fallen over Lance when he felt strong arms pry him off neatly. 

_Arthur_ . 

"Mine," Arthur actually said. 

"Prat!" Merlin couldn't help replying. So, that wasn't what he wanted to say to Arthur today. Not even close. 

Lance held up both hands and backed off, shaking his head. "Just try to keep your clothes on for the next hour, all right?" 

Merlin felt his face flush, especially with Arthur squishing him back against the firm plate of his chest. Then Arthur wiped a finger over Merlin's cheek. "Oh god, you're wearing _things_." 

Merlin looked at the glittery gold shining new on Arthur's skin. "I know. I tried magicking them off, but apparently magic likes glitter. I think I made more." 

Arthur breathed over his neck and didn't at all let him go like a normal human being. "Magic likes glitter," he enunciated slowly. "Next you're going to tell me unicorns are real." 

Actually Merlin had no idea if unicorns were real or not. He'd never seen one. But for today's sake, he said, "All right then. Unicorns are real." 

"Why are you being agreeable?" Arthur hugged him harder and seemed to sniff him. Like he could sniff out Merlin's intention or something if only he tried hard enough. 

"Arthur, I... I have to tell you something." 

Arthur sighed, a great ballooning of chest before he deflated. "Me too." 

Merlin didn't know what terrible thing Arthur could possibly have to tell him that could be worse than what he had to say. "You go first." 

Arthur tensed up, then let go. His whole person was a bow of a sigh. "It's about your father." 

Merlin felt a tick-tick-tick deep in his throat, a spasm so he couldn't speak properly at first. "Lemhmm, erm- let me guess. You went looking for him as a grand gesture. And you can't find him. Or, you found him but he wanted nothing to do with me. Or, you found him but he's passed or-" 

"Merlin! No, it's to do with my father." 

"Your father? I don't understand. Did Uther find him? He does have more resources. Will would say that a man like your father could buy all sorts of information that even magic can't ferret out. Although I've not tried scrying, of course. Of course, scrying! You'd think that'd be the first thing I tried. But no one's ever taught me how and it's not like you can just Google that sort of thing. Well, you can but the sort of rubbish that'd turn up! Can you imagine?" He babbled on, couldn't seem to stop. He was nervous and his father and holy crap, _Uther_. If those two were ever lovers, Merlin did not want to know. And just _how_ did he get on _that_ train of thought? 

"Merlin!" 

"Yes?" 

"Shut up." 

"Right. You had something to tell me about my father and your father." 

Arthur made a face. "Don't say it like that. Merlin, I have to - apologise." 

"And we all know how difficult that is for you." 

The expected retort, the 'shut up, Merlin' never came. Instead, Arthur's eyes were a stormy teacup as he reached for Merlin's hand. "My father effectively banished yours, Merlin. I'm so sorry. You were right about my father. He did hate magic, because it killed my mother." 

"My father-?" 

"No! No. I don't know who did but father called her a sorceress. Fertility magic. A life for a life." 

_Oh gods_. "How do you even know this? When-?" 

"After dinner with you and Gwen. It came out that Morgana's a Seer. And father... confessed, I suppose. I don't know that he's entirely magic-friendly now, but he's trying for Morgana's sake. I wanted you to know, Merlin, about your father. You can hate me, although I hope you won't, but I didn't want there to be any more secrets between us." 

Merlin felt pelted, overwhelmed with information. His father didn't leave because of him. Arthur's mum died from magic. Arthur's father was a tool. Morgana really, really was a Seer. 

"Merlin? Say something." 

"Something." 

"Merlin!" 

"Arthur, you're blameless. In this." 

"In this?" 

"Yes, well, let's not get carried away." 

Arthur rolled his eyes but relaxed, squeezing Merlin's hand. "So, you had something to tell me?" 

~~ 

Merlin didn't get a chance to tell Arthur a thing. Isolde and Tristan descended on them like angry hens. "Can't you two stay apart for two seconds? Honestly! You will get your chance to profess all you like in a minute. Remember the memo? We want a good show, don't we? Save the good stuff for the cameras, yeah? And Merlin, what did you do to your face? Arthur! Your jacket!" 

And once again Merlin was whisked away to the torture chamber, where his face was 'transformed' and his hair yanked. He'd never realized how awful it was having his hair yanked. When Arthur did it, it felt entirely different. 

Then again, so were most things when it came to Arthur. Merlin's heart sank. He was going to have to make his confession on camera. Isolde was going to get more than she bargained for. This kind of 'good stuff' you couldn't script. This kind of 'good stuff' was probably going to kill him. 

Arthur, of course, had no idea of what was to come. His jacket was straightened out by the time Merlin caught sight of him again. Merlin walked slowly, as if in addition to the makeup, he was also wearing heels. (He wasn't; thank God.) Tristan and Isolde were escorting him, their arms looped around his held him up, unbeknownst to them. They prattled on with their scripted questions. _How are you feeling, Merlin. Are you ready? All these past weeks leading up to this moment-blah blah._ He gave one-word answers. _Fine. No. Sorry?_

Isolde laughed overly loud and patted him on the back, making up something about his nervousness. He supposed she wasn't wrong about the nerves. Elephants stampeding the hell out of his stomach - that was what it felt like. Not butterflies. Nothing so light. Elephants. Nailing him down to the ground. 

Then Tristan gripped his hand, shook it. "Good luck, Merlin. Arthur's waiting for you in the garden. We'll see you in a little bit." 

And Merlin gave a perfunctory nod. He wasn't going to see him in a bit. He wasn't going to see anyone in a bit. 

"Merlin!" Arthur looked luminous in the middle of the garden, the sun (and cameras) all shining down, pointing at him as if he were some chosen one. "Good day for a leisurely stroll, is it?" 

"Prat." But Merlin kept looking at him, going down the long, narrow pathway and its echoes of _wedding, wedding_ with steady steps. He wanted to commit Arthur to memory, all the different textures of him. He wasn't going to see that nose or those hands or that Adam's apple or those eyes - he wasn't going to see Arthur again for a long time. 

Arthur, oblivious to his thoughts, grinned and walked his way. "Come on, then. I'll walk you." 

And Merlin stopped thinking 'prat'. Arthur was nervous too, if the rabbiting of his heartbeat and way he kept worrying his lips was any indication. 

"Merlin," Arthur untucked his hand at last and held it as he stopped on his mark. "I've thought a lot about what I wanted to say to you." He rubbed Merlin's ring finger with his thumb, his silver ring catching on Merlin's skin. Raw, raw, that was how Merlin felt. 

"Some of it you already know," Arthur was saying. "I had a great time in Thailand with you. I had a great time everywhere with you. When we first met, I thought you were the most ridiculous person. Mind you, I still think that three times a day, but now I also know about the rest of you. I know that you're brave, Merlin. Not a lot of people come out to the world and say with glitter and bright-coloured scarves just how magical they are. But you do. You're the most magical person I know. And out of all the people on the show these past weeks, you're the most familiar to me. But you're also the biggest mystery at the same time. Sometimes I look at you and think I'll never fully know your mind." 

And oh gods, if only Arthur knew how on the mark he was. Merlin swallowed, feeling desperately parched. 

"You are you, Merlin. You're never anyone else. I know I tease and call you idiot a lot. But you're actually quite wise. You made me see the value of being true to myself. Three years ago, I would have never imagined dating men in the public eye. I was terrified. Petrified really with what that would do to my reputation, to the reputation of my family and to Pendragon Estates. My father had always told me that we were responsible for our employees. Without us, their jobs, their livelihoods stood in danger. I'd always taken that to heart. I wanted to do right by my father and by the people who depend upon us." 

"And I understood that, Arthur, I did." 

"I know. I read your letter, Merlin. I read it over and over until there were holes in the paper. And you were right. I was miserable and misery breeds misery. I made my poor PA's life miserable. And I made _you_ miserable. I'm sorry for hurting you, Merlin. I'm sorry I hid you away like you're something to be ashamed of." 

"Arthur, you don't need to apologise. The world isn't always kind to those of us who are a little different." 

"No, it's not." And Arthur squeezed his hand so that Merlin knew he wasn't just talking about sexual orientation. He was talking about magic too. "But luckily, there are people like you in it. To show the rest of us that being different is a good thing, that maybe one wild peach tree in an apple grove erm... makes...uh..." 

"A horrible metaphor?" 

"Thank you, Merlin." 

And Merlin couldn't help the smile, even as his heart shattered into pollen-sized pieces and suffocated him with their foreshadows of impending doom. 

"What I was saying was - I love you the way you are, Merlin. And I don't want you to ever change. I want you to always be you. Because the world is better with your kind of magic in it." 

Merlin felt choked up. He swallowed on empty again and felt half sick. How was he supposed to say goodbye? 

"Arthur," he managed to croak. "I wanted to say something to you as well." 

Arthur gave him a nod, an encouraging squeeze of his hand. 

"I love you, prat. There are not many people in the world who would do what you do in your position. You are the leader politicians keep promising us to be. You genuinely care about your people at Pendragon Estates and about your family and even about all of us on this show. You put us all before you. And I admire it. I really do. But I also wish you could see how special you are, how much you need to be cared for, too." 

"Well, I've got you for that, don't I?" 

Merlin gulped. Damn it. "You've got Leon," he tried. "And you've got Morgana. And you've got your father." 

Arthur tensed, gripping his hand harder. His eyes dart over Merlin's face as if trying to figure out just what he was saying. 

"Morgana loves you," Merlin tried again. "She really, genuinely cares for you." 

"Merlin. What are you-" 

"I can't-" His breath snagged; it was getting hard to speak. "I can't be with you. I'm sorry. Morgana saw something and I- I have to respect that she knows what she's talking about." 

"She talks rubbish half the time! _Merlin_ , you can't be serious. I thought you just said you-" 

"I _do_." Merlin pledged it. "I do love you and I want you to live a long, happy life, Arthur." 

"Don't go _Titanic_ on me. Don't you dare. You're not sick, are you, Merlin? Merlin!" 

But Merlin's already slipped into his bird form. This was a different sort of fever this time, more violent as the sky seemed to singe his wingtips and the sun blind his eyes. Merlin closed them and felt in a free fall. 

* 

Arthur placed Gwen and Merlin as one and two because he thought he'd get the harder part of the day over with first and because he didn't want to let go once he got Merlin to stay. 

But oh, how wrong he was. The segment with Gwen was filmed in less than twenty minutes, easy-peasy. He had phrased every sentence as he meant to say them. There wasn't a single retake of his part. "I really, really like you, Gwen. I find myself wondering what would have happened if I met you years before. I rather think you'd be my favourite girlfriend." 

And he'd brushed his thumbs lightly over Gwen's perfectly manicured fingers. "These past weeks have been really fun getting to know you." These were not lies at least. Arthur did have fun hanging out with her. "I'll always remember Hawaii and the way you looked dancing in the sunset." And really, Arthur would. Gwen looked radiant, so happy as she rose up on her feet and got the sway just right. He would remember the way Lance swooned over her with his big moon pie eyes as well. 

"You've been one of my best mates on the show. I felt like I could tell you almost anything." Like Merlin. "You've been wonderful. I felt so relaxed with you, like I could just be me." 

Gwen smiled nervously, her beauty mark twitching a bit. It was endearing really. Arthur was going to miss her. "But, I'm sorry. I have to say goodbye to you today, Gwen. My heart's been with Merlin for a long time now and I suspect it's always going to be with him." 

"Oh, thank God." Gwen hugged him hard before she turned with sudden decision towards Lance. 

"Gwen?" Lance looked stunned as Gwen cupped his face. 

"Lance, if- if you _at all_ felt..." 

Lance kissed her, wrapped her up in his arms and lifted her up to better fit their mouths together. 

Arthur looked away. This was what he imagined his parents looked like once upon a time. This was that fairy tale first kiss. 

"You know you have to do that over again." Lance said as he set Gwen down on Earth. 

Gwen grinned, shy and wicked all at once. "Do _what_ again exactly?" 

Lance spluttered, blushed and gestured back at Arthur. "Your reply. We need to do a retake of that, my lady." 

That, even with the five million retakes of Gwen - she just couldn't stop beaming, which the scene did not call for - turned out so much better than the segment with Merlin. 

That segment segmented Arthur. Merlin left him again. This time in full view of the dozens of people who made up the crew. Isolde and Tristan seemed genuinely stunned. Their rush of words as they tried to comfort him sounded sincere. But Arthur wasn't really listening. It was all noise to him. 

He kept going over and over the conversation with Merlin in his head, getting angrier and angrier. If Merlin were sick, Arthur would stand by him. If Merlin needed space, Arthur would hate it but he would give him space. If Merlin didn't love him anymore, then this would perhaps hurt less. But Merlin - the idiot! - made Arthur's day by telling him he loved him only to turn around and fly away. 

Literally. 

Arthur didn't even get a goodbye, just an "I can't be with you," which he wanted to stomp to smithereens. 

Morgana. This was all Morgana's fault. He fired off a text. 

_What in the bloody hell did you see?_

And then he turned off his mobile. He wanted to go hit something over and over again. Needed to. 

He turned his mobile back on. 

"Arthur?" Percy sounded more surprised than Arthur himself. 

"Yes. Do you still have the key to that gymnasium you mentioned? The one with the boxing gear?" 

~~ 

Burning. Soreness. Exhaustion. These were things Arthur understood. Before him the speedball, furious red, vibrated to and fro, a heavy teardrop. Arthur punched it again, sent it spinning like mad. Its groans filled the room, echoing louder, harsher. 

His own breathing was a ragged thing, had been, rushing tunnel loud as he threw out one fist after the other. _Sound effects_ , he could remember Merlin saying. _The film industry does the craziest things. You'd think you're hearing boots crushing leaves but it'd really be sweets wrappers going flat under an iron._

Merlin made the most random commentaries sometimes. And Arthur had no idea why he was thinking about Merlin in this space he came to _not_ think about Merlin. 

"Arthur?" 

He stilled, watched as the vibrations winded down and down and down. And then it was nothing. Before him was just a stuffed leather bag dangling in the middle of the room. Arthur dared not blink. He wasn't going to cry, especially not in front of Percy. 

A water bottle nudged its way in the clutch of his fingers. Percy. Arthur unscrewed the cap and took the longest swallow. "Thank you." 

Percy only gave him a grave nod. This was the other reason Arthur came here. He wasn't ready to talk. 

"There's also a punching bag over there. It's great for kicking." 

And yeah, Arthur thought. Yeah. That was a great idea. Kicking. Kicking kicked crying's arse. 

~~ 

Arthur lingered in the shower. The water had gone lukewarm and barely registered against his skin. The steady rush of it though - the white noise of it was helping a bit with the not thinking. 

A bit, not a lot. Every once in awhile, a Merlin-shaped memory brushed against his thigh. _Here_. 

_Not here_. 

Arthur didn't understand. Why, _why_ would Merlin leave him? They were happy, weren't they? In Thailand at least? 

By the time he made it out to the gym again, there was one more body in the room. "Gwaine." 

"Arthur." Unlike Percy who understood such things as space and silence, Gwaine marched right up to him and embraced him. 

Arthur pushed him away after a squeeze. He still wasn't going to cry. 

"Percy here was just telling me about your form." Gwaine grinned as he prattled on about all things decidedly not Merlin. "Fancy a pizza? I'm starving." 

"You're always starving." Arthur and Percy both rolled their eyes at him. 

"Can't blame a lad for a healthy appetite, eh? I'm thinking we get a couple with everything. And a case of cold ones, yeah? Maybe catch a game on telly. Or some smarmy no good show." Gwaine kept it up, going and going until Arthur wanted to swat him like a fly (and also maybe hug him for the distraction). 

~~ 

It was late (the next day) when Arthur finally checked his messages. He half hoped Merlin had changed his mind, came to his senses, called. But the messages were all from his sister, all of them some variation of _call me_. 

"Why can't you just bloody _tell_ me why you ruined my life?" 

Morgana seemed not to hear him at all. 

"Arthur! Oh, thank god, I was so worried. Isolde said you went away because you needed to punch things." 

"She. Wasn't. Wrong." 

"I see. I'll make it quick. I got you on this show, Arthur, because I saw you and Merlin together, really together again, happy. He was accepting some mangled rose from you." 

"Then why-" 

Morgana shushed him. "Still talking. And then I went with Leon to film that bloody segment for the show. What I saw there wasn't a vision. Merlin went in the house to get us all drinks. And you know Merlin. I was afraid we'd have glasses a third full by the time he was done with it all. So I slipped in after him. And - well, I caught him with Mordred." Morgana said this last really fast, like ripping off a plaster. "They were... in the loo. I'm sorry." 

"What?" 

"Arthur, are you pissed?" 

Perhaps he was. Arthur thought he just heard Morgana say that she saw Merlin cheating on him with Mordred. 

"No." 

"Arthur." Morgana sounded tired, as tired as Arthur felt. "I didn't want it to be true either. But then I saw them again." 

"Just- _Mordred_? Are you sure?" But Arthur suddenly remembered Mordred admitting to cheating once before. And he remembered Merlin saying he'd been 'practising' with Mordred. Rage and disappointment boiled within him, turning into something green, sickening. 

"Arthur, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I thought - well, Gwen's such a lovely person and I thought perhaps you'd give her a chance." 

"She's in love with Lance." 

"Oh." 

'I'm in love with Merlin' went unsaid but not unheard. 

They stayed on the phone, silent for the longest while. 

Until Arthur's stomach growled, louder than both their thoughts. Come back whenever you want, Percy had said. 

It was now whenever o'clock, the end of the world as Arthur knew it. 


	9. The Balloon

Merlin woke up next to Freya and Will on the couch with no memory of how he got there. The room was a right mess all around them. Uni - that was what this scene reminded him of. Solo cups and paper plates. The smell of beer and grease. 

He unearthed his left foot from under the tangle of Freya and Will's. Will's feet thudded, pulling forward his knees and the rest of him. But the deep sleeper that he was, Will just grunted and snoozed on. Merlin wished he could go back to sleep. Morning brought thoughts and thoughts brought a world of hurt. 

He stumbled into his bedroom and sprawled face down on his bed. It felt an ages ago when he last slept here. Nothing had changed. Not really. His hair was still impossible. His heart still ached. Arthur was still not his. 

Merlin flipped over and inadvertently kicked his bedside table. Kilgharrah, inanimate now, a hardened piece of smudged dragon, fell sharp onto his chest. "Ow." Merlin picked it up, held out his hand and thought: _restore_. 

Its crusty outer scales fell away and Merlin smiled. Yeah, at least he still had this - something he could do well, something still his. And then Merlin remembered the dragon lore museum, the one Arthur had dedicated to him and put Kilgharrah back on the table. Even dragons hurt to think about now. 

_Merlin_. 

It didn't sound like either Freya or Will. Merlin frowned. 

_Merlin_ , the voice came again. 

"Not again." Merlin groaned. He wasn't up for another feverish round. Last time at least he had Arthur and a stolen moment. Now he had... hallucinations. 

_I am no hallucination! Look up, young warlock._

With some trepidation, Merlin looked up. Kilgharrah's head was tilted in a weird angle, like it was looking at him. 

_That's because I_ am _looking at you, young warlock._

"Oh." 

_Yes. Now about that prince of yours._

"He's not mine. Apparently, he'll never be mine." 

_That's where you are wrong, Merlin. You and Arthur are two sides of the same coin. You belong together._

"Yes. Said a most trustworthy piece of Play-Doh." 

Kilgharrah ignored him. _You have already begun the journey to bring magic back to this land. A museum is a most respectable place to begin. Alas, 'lore' is such a misnomer, is it not? Dragons are so much more than lore, as you well know._

"Actually, it looks like I know nothing!" 

"Merlin?" Will stood at the door, a line of indented dots along his face from where it was wedged against Freya's blouse. 

"What?" 

"Are you... mate, are you talking to yourself?" 

"It's..." Merlin looked up but Kilgharrah, the little traitor, had already gone back to its still life pose. "Never mind. I'm going to work." 

"Like that?" 

"Fine, I'll shower and _then_ I'll go to work. Happy?" Merlin didn't wait for a response, brushed right by Will to cram into their tiny shower. At least he was first in today. At least there was hot water to look forward to. 

~~ 

It got worse. 

Apparently the first cut wasn't the deepest. It was the second, the last, the severing cut. Some days Merlin woke up thinking he was still with Arthur, entangled on a beach somewhere, happy. Those days were the worst. 

He threw himself into work. He was pushing harder too, for Gaius to start displaying his products. "Come on, Gaius, I know we have no fancy stickers to put on my toys yet, but we can at least give them away as adverts? Look, I can put our logo on." And Merlin imaged it – easy-magicky - onto the wingtip of one. 

Gaius gave him that frown. "Legal would have my arse, Merlin. Do you know the kind of liability we'd have if one of these parts were to come off and some little child somewhere were to choke on it?" 

"That's worst-case scenario!" 

"Yes." 

So Merlin threw himself in earnest into tweaking and marketing his designs to a manufacturer. He also had to come up with something other than 'oh, it's magic' to explain why no little child would ever choke on one of his toys. 

He was working on it. 

~~ 

Freya started coming around a lot more. Sometimes she even squished in alongside him in his bed at night. If Merlin didn't know better, he'd think she was trying to kick him out of his own bed. 

"I think your bed loves me, Merlin. I sleep best here. Which must mean you sleep best elsewhere." 

_Arthur's bed._ They both thought it but neither said it. 

"Budge over and stop hogging all my covers, Frey." 

~~ 

Merlin thought he knew what Will was doing shutting the door of his bedroom so much more than usual. Porn. Sexual frustration over Freya's newfound presence in their lives. Something like that. Something Merlin didn't want to think about. 

But one night, Merlin came home from work slightly earlier and Will's door wasn't completely shut. 

_Will you accept this rose?_

Shit. Bugger. Fuck. Arthur's voice. Will was watching _The Bachelor_ on the sly. 

Merlin hurried to the loo to slam the door and catch his breath. Shit. Bugger. _Fuck_. He received communication from Tristan just yesterday as well. He was going to have to go back for the reunion show. It was in his contract. 

* 

Arthur was sat in another suffocating meeting about budget and appropriation. He hated this. He hated maths especially much lately. Mordred, the little weasel - that was what maths reminded him of. He gripped the pen harder and made a first scratch across his notebook. M, for Mordred. 

He added another M, for Merlin. M and M. 

Fuck. Even their portmanteau would be sweet. 

What would his and Merlin's be? Nothing, that was what. They just weren't meant to be. 

He tore off the top sheet and crumbled it. 

~~ 

"William. Like Will.I.Am. except all one word. William." 

"Sorry, William, but you are not on his list of appointments." 

"Appointment? He's not a doctor or the queen. I don't need a bloody appointment!" 

"It's all right, George." Arthur waved William in. 

"Fancy club you've got here, Pendragon. Complete with a bouncer!" 

"What do you want?" Arthur didn't have time for this. He didn't even particularly want to see him. It was only surprise and a sick curiosity that landed him this - _William_ in his office. 

William hesitated, stopped gazing around his office with distaste and dropped into a chair. "It's like this - Merlin's my best mate, alright? I've known him since we were both in our nappies. And you've broken his heart _again_. So, you're going to fix it." 

" _I_ broke his heart? _He_ left _me_. Twice." 

William snorted. "Bless his idiotic heart, yes?" 

Arthur bristled. He was the only one who got to call Merlin an idiot. "You're supposed to be his best mate." 

"Yes. I wouldn't do this just for anybody, now, would I? I came to see _you_." 

"Point." Arthur breathed out. "Actually, what is your point? Why are you here? Did he send you?" 

William looked uncomfortable. "No. No, don't tell Merlin I was here. He'd have my head." 

Arthur sat back and waited. 

"So, thing is Merlin and I - we used to watch the show together, _The Bachelor_ , yeah? And we made fun of everything because - well, we didn't have to live it, did we? And it's a bloody show. But thing is - Merlin - he's... he's a bloody romantic at heart. Soul mate and all that shite - he believes in it, all right? So, I thought, why not, bloke's had his heart knocked about pretty bad. He deserves a break. So I signed him up." 

"I don't hear a point, William." 

"God, you're such a-" William reined himself in with obvious effort. "I watched the show. With you and Merlin and that gorgeous Gwen and everybody. And mate, you and Merlin are the stupidest pair of human beings I know." 

"What? Get out of my office!" 

William did no such thing, simply kept on talking. "Merlin, he's the sacrificial sort, yeah? And I gather you are too." Arthur thought he heard William mutter _stupid idiots_ under his breath. "Put the two of you together and we get this bloody tragic love story. He thinks he's saving you. You think whatever the bloody thing you think. And while you should be sickly happy together, you're sickly unhappy apart." 

"Merlin's unhappy? But he's - but _Mordred_." Arthur didn't understand. 

" _Mordred_? Oh, Curly Surly! What about him?" 

"My sister caught them together." 

"Your sister-!" William bit off another cuss word. "I don't know what the bloody hell your sister thinks she saw. But Merlin would never! Do you even _know_ Merlin? Merlin! He pined after your pathetic arse for three bloody years! Bloke went monk, too. Now he's fallen into the same but _worse_. He's trying to get his bloody dragons to fly with the manufacturers. And he's trying out a dragon lore series at the readings. He's throwing himself into work and work and more work. Except everything is coming up dragons, yeah?" 

"Sure, Merlin loves his dragons." 

"Yes, including you, Pendragon!" 

"But-" 

William shushed him. Actually held a finger to his lips and shushed him. "Talk to your sister. Better yet, talk to that Mordred. Stop being an idiot. Merlin deserves better than this from you. But, much as it pains me to say it, Merlin deserves _you_. He's - well, I haven't seen him that happy as on the show with you in years. And now he's- do you know he's actually been wearing blue jeans? Blue! Not electric blue either. Just sad blue. He's literally a sad sack." 

~~ 

Arthur didn't know why he thought it would be a good idea to bring Mordred to Percy's gym, where he could possibly kill him. But there they both were, swords in hands. 

"En garde!" 

And they were off on another bout. 

It felt a little better when he sneaked in an attack. 

"You got me! Now I die." Mordred faked it, sprawling on the mat with a hand clutched to his chest. 

Damn the stupid cute weasel. 

Mordred got back up, took off his mask and grinned. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" 

Arthur looked away, taking off his own mask. "It's Merlin." 

"Merlin?! What's happened?" 

"Are you in love with him?" 

Mordred's face looked all sort of funny, twitchy and blank all at once. "He's-" Mordred looked around for evidence of Percy hiding in the shadows. "-the most powerful warlock I know." 

"So, what, you've formed a magical alliance?" 

"Arthur, are you accusing me of-" 

Arthur let his face do the talking. 

Mordred snapped on his mask again. "En garde!" 

_Fuck._ This bout was all furious speed. The two of them parried in the best Arthur had ever done. 

"You got me again." Mordred stripped off his mask, sweaty and out of breath. "I do. I really like Merlin. But any fool can see he's in love with you." 

"But the loo... Morgana said she saw you two together." 

Something dawned on Mordred's face. 

"So you do admit it!" 

"He was showing me _The Emrys Collection_! We had to hide because he was doing magic in the mirror. He's so good, Arthur. I could reach in and touch the relics. I _did_." 

Arthur threw down his sword. God, this was so fucked. "So, you're not-" 

"I wish." 

Arthur pushed him, but with an eye roll to go with and not much heat. 

"You can't blame me! People are attracted to power, wouldn't you say? And goodness. And he's both." 

"Well, you can't have him." 

"Oh, I know. I can't have you either. Neither of you were ever available, were you?" 

They were quiet for a moment, sat heavy side by side on the battleground. Arthur supposed he'd won this round. Sort of. 

"What exactly sort of sounds were you making that made Morgana think-?" 

Mordred showed him, complete with facial expressions. 

Arthur was glad he was sitting down already because this kind of laughter wasn't made for standing upright. "Oh, gods. _Oh, gods! William_ was _right_." 

* 

Merlin was having a Very Odd Day. V first of all for Vivian. She turned up at his place of work out of nowhere. One minute Merlin was shelving the new arrivals and studying them for design ideas and the next Vivian was clutching a toy around a very inappropriate place. 

"Erm." 

"Hello Merlin. It's come to my attention that I owe you my life." 

"What?" 

"Don't worry. No one's told me anything. It's my deductive skills, you see. I've been reading and, all right, watching a lot of _Sherlock_ lately, so bear with me." 

Merlin thought he was. He still hadn't said anything about the way she was holding that toy. 

"I noticed a few things didn't match up during the scene of my fall on the show." Vivian went on the list all the continuity errors that Merlin had hoped no one would notice. "So, it had to be you. You saved me. Thank you, Merlin." Vivian then proceeded to hug him hard. At least there was no inappropriateness there. 

"You won't- I mean, you're welcome, but you won't-?" 

"-tell? No. Although if _The Sun_ wanted to pay me pounds and pounds for the scoop, I wouldn't say no." She grinned at him. "Ciao." 

"The erm..." Merlin tried with flailing limbs to indicate that she should let go of the toy. But Gaius got to her first. 

"Young lady!" His eyebrow was shot sky high. 

O came in the form of Morgana. She appeared in the mirror of the loo just as he was washing up. He had a right fright. 

"Oh, my god, Morgana!" Merlin checked his fly. 

"Merlin, really, it wouldn't be anything I hadn't seen before." And how was that supposed to make him feel better? Merlin's cheek burned. But Morgana appeared not to notice. She was pale and distressed as she went on. "I owe you an apology, Merlin. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh gods. I thought - no, I did hear you and Mordred in the loo. I should have known though. Our eyes and our ears deceive us often." 

" _What_ are you talking about?" 

But whatever door Morgana was keeping an eye on was opening. "I've got to go. Cheers." And she disappeared, leaving Merlin to stare, frustrated, at his own reflection in the mirror, his mouth open in an O. 

D was the strangest. D was for dad. Balinor popped around the shop around closing time. Merlin was dawdling around, trying to put off having to head home until the last minute (home now was Will and Freya watching _The Bachelor_ out in the open. Home was having to blast his music on high through his earphones and avert his eyes). 

Merlin stopped short as a fully bearded man approached him at the door of Gaius' Toy Emporium. "Hello, I'm afraid we're closed for the day. But we open at eight in the morning, and if you pop around earlier, I'm in usually by half past six. Are you looking for a present for your little one?" 

The man hesitated. "I'm looking for my little one," he said. 

"Oh, blimey! Did you lose track of yours? We can check the back racks. I know that's where _I_ would be. There's the best toys." 

"Is it?" The man didn't protest as he followed Merlin back in. 

"What's your child's name? We can try calling it out. Sometimes that works. Maybe if you promise not to be angry and to get some ice cream afterwards. I've found that works nine times out of ten." 

"Merlin." 

Merlin looked back and smiled. "Yes, that's right. I'm Merlin." He held up his name tag which was dangling from his wrist. "I can't promise to be as magic as my namesake but I can definitely try my best to help." 

"No. My child's name is Merlin." 

Merlin stopped in his tracks. He thought the eyes looked familiar, but the beard was all new and the voice. All new. Merlin daren't hope. He turned around, his heart pounding. "Not- ha, not many people name their children Merlin." 

"No, Merlin. Not many do. Your mother chose well." 

"My mother? How do you know my mother named me?" 

"Because I wasn't around, Merlin, as I should have been." 

Merlin couldn't speak. He sat down on a child-sized chair. He felt child-sized right then, not big enough to handle all this news. 

His father, god, his _father_ , crouched down next to him. "I- I wanted you to know that I would have never left had I known your mother was pregnant with you. I left because I couldn't find employment and I was ashamed and wanted better for your mum." 

This matched up with what Arthur told him. Still, Merlin found it hard to take in all at once. 

"Do you fancy some ice cream?" His father was asking. "You can be as angry as you need to be with me." 

Merlin shook his head. "I-I mean, yes. I do. Want ice cream." 

"Good. I've been told it works nine times out of ten." 

~~ 

Merlin came home to Freya propped up against Will's shoulder, snoozing. The telly ran on, some late night advert of things you only think you need in the wee hours of the morning. 

So the ice cream turned into more. Merlin felt new, so new around his father. It was like getting to know some stranger who was inexplicably so much like himself. His father's eyes lit up when Merlin told him about his magic, about his dragons. His father favoured extra chocolate syrup on his ice cream, too. His father also left someone, his mother, for her 'own good'. 

"You should go see mum." He finally ventured. 

"Oh, I don't know. I see a slap coming that way." 

"That she might." Merlin shook his head at how surreal this was, that he was sat at a cafe watching the lights of the traffic zoom by as they talked about everything. "But then again she might understand." 

"Probably both. Eventually." 

"Probably." Merlin sipped more of his cuppa. 

"Your bloke," his father ventured. "The Pendragon scion... I wouldn't presume to dispense fatherly advice at this point, but just... be careful, Merlin." 

"You mean Uther. I know what he did to drive you out. Arthur apologised for him." 

Balinor seemed most surprised at that news. "Did he?" He'd turned his cup several turns by the time he spoke again. "Merlin, don't make the same mistake I made with your mother." 

"I promise you Arthur's not pregnant." 

His father spat tea all over their table. 

"Sorry!" 

His father coughed and mopped up and then coughed some more. He didn't say anything, just gave Merlin a look that made him feel the need to squeeze more sorry's out of his throat. 

"Sorry, I-" 

"Merlin." His father shook his head. "I regret leaving your mother every day of my life. I missed her every day." 

"That may be, for you. But I don't just think, I-" 

" _-know_ that you're doing the best thing for him?" His father sighed. "No one can predict the future, Merlin. No one. Not fully. Not correctly." 

"Not even-" 

"-Seers? No, not even them." 

Merlin gulped. _Damn it_. "But- shouldn't it be easier? If it's meant to be?" 

His father gave him a very Gaius sort of look. "Nothing worth doing is ever easy." 

And Merlin was the one to fly into a coughing fit this time. He supposed Arthur was worth doing (over and over) but he doubted that was what his father meant. 

The words sank in finally and Balinor blushed bright red. "Worth... pursuing, shall we say?" 

"To the pursuit of happiness?" 

"To the pursuit of happiness." His father joined him in a toast. 

And in the dark with the blue of the telly light pulsing against his best mates' faces, Merlin thought yeah, perhaps there was something to that. He scribbled the slogans down on a couple of Post-its and stuck them to Will and Freya's hands. 

* 

Arthur's cheeks hurt. They've been hurting for a good day and a half now. Even with William and Freya's help, blowing thirty-six giant balloons - one for each day he'd foolishly spent apart from Merlin since the end of the show - in preparation for his surprise this day was no easy feat. Not to mention the stuffing of the balloon that came next and all the nerves that came with it all. 

"Should have known you'd just put us to work. You Pendragons." William muttered as he stretched another balloon around the oddest machine Arthur had ever seen. It was magic without magic. It allowed him to tape a picture on a string inside each balloon. 

"How's this one?" Arthur held up a photo for Freya to see. 

"Oh, he's so cute here, Arthur!" 

"You've said that about _all_ of them." William grumbled, a little jealously, Arthur thought. 

"Not all!" She protested. "There are some that are just hot! The tattoo one, remember? And that one in the tub?" 

William pretended to gag. 

"So, yes to the one with Merlin putting up one of his marquees." Arthur tied it to a string. 

"Definitely yes." Freya tapped another balloon as she made sure it floated. The weight was tricky with the photo inside, though these were the lightest paper Arthur could find which still printed well. Freya gave them a little boost with her magic. She even morphed the shape of two for variety - one into a butterfly and another into a heart. 

Now Arthur was actually here, with his thirty-seven balloons (they took a little longer than anticipated with the preparation) in front of Gaius' Toy Emporium. He fussed with his cuffs once more. 

"You look good, boss." George patted down his collar for him and handed him the last balloon. "Good luck. I'll be waiting in the car park." 

"Thank you, George." Arthur gripped the balloons tighter and walked in. This was it. 

~~ 

He saw Merlin first, bent over a storybook as he read. His voice carried animatedly as he spoke in character. The children loved it, by the look of things. A few parents were scattered about, some looking frazzled, some calm. 

Arthur was both. He was calm because it felt right. Being with Merlin always felt right. But he was nervous as well as this was the most public display (Thailand not included as that was a secluded beach) that he was ever going to make. 

He walked gingerly between tiny feet until he was there, directly before Merlin. 

Merlin looked up, blinked twice. "Arthur?" 

"Still my name." 

"What about prat?" 

"Language, Merlin!" Arthur looked around the circle as a small boy giggled and repeated "prat!" at the top of his lungs. This was going well. 

Merlin closed his book. "Bradley, let's use our inside voice, yes?" 

"Prat," the little boy said quietly. 

"That's an adult word. When you're as tall as me, you'll get to use it, all right?" 

The Bradley kid remained sceptical. "What if I never get as tall as you?" 

"When you're as tall as _me_ , you'll get to use it, how's that?" Arthur stepped in to help. 

The kid looked him up and down and shrugged. "All right." 

"All right then." Arthur sighed. He was only a finger's width shorter but Merlin's build held the illusion he was tall as reeds. 

"Are the balloons for us?" A little girl in braids pulled on his pant leg and asked. 

"Sorry..." 

"Katie." 

"Katie. These balloons are for Merlin." 

"Really?" She clapped her hands, delighted. "Merlin loves balloons." 

Arthur smiled. At least he seemed to have gotten that part right. "I know. Balloons are the best surprise, I'm told." 

"Arthur," Merlin stood up as he cut in. "What are you doing here? As you can see, I'm working right now. We're in the middle of a story, and I'm sure they'd all like to know how it ends." 

"Actually, yes, we'd all like to know how this balloon story ends," Freya cut in and gave Arthur a nod of support. 

"Balloon story!" Bradley exclaimed loudly as several adults, another little boy and Katie all shushed him. 

Arthur cleared his throat and started. "Merlin, when I first met you, you had just put up a marquee." He tugged the first balloon free (Freya came up with the genius idea to number them). He handed it to Merlin. "And I knew you were feisty and funny." 

Merlin looked at the transparent balloon and the picture dangling inside. His hair obscured his expression but Arthur wasn't daunted. He had more story to tell. "Then you introduced me to your hobby, the thing you are so good at doing - making toy dragons." He handed Merlin another balloon. "I knew you were special. Really special. Not everyone goes through life bringing joy. And that's what you do every day. You bring joy. A lot of it." Arthur slipped him the third balloon quietly, without explanation. It was the tub picture, the one with the tulip petals wet on the rims. Merlin's eyes widened at that one as his head snapped up. He popped that balloon and quickly pocketed the picture. 

Merlin cleared his throat. "Go on." 

"People say we're greater than the sum of our parts. But I find your parts quite charming, Merlin. From your ears-" Arthur handed him a balloon. "-to your lashes." Another balloon. "To your hands. To your laughter. To even your hair, which is a surprise every day." 

_Pop, pop, pop_ went several balloons. Arthur didn't say out loud the part about Merlin's lower back, after all. 

"Some people take pictures of the sunrise. Or the sunset. Or any moment in between. Because those moments are beautiful to them, meaningful. I can't help taking pictures of all of your moments, Merlin." Arthur handed Merlin another big bunch of balloons. "Whether you're sipping your morning coffee or working on your latest dragon. Whether you're playing with Freya's kitten or just sleeping. Merlin, I find you infinitely photographable." 

Merlin didn't pop any of those. He did, however, return Arthur's stare. This felt like a one-person concert to Arthur, even with the crowd they had gathered around them. None of it mattered. Not Freya's sighs or Bradley and Katie's overloud whispers. There was only Merlin in front of him, Merlin he needed to convince. 

"There are thirty-seven balloons here. William and Freya helped me with the whole project." Arthur handed Merlin the last bunch in his left hand. "There's one for each day I was foolish enough to let you go this time. This last bunch is all from the show - in the museum and in Thailand." 

"Helicopter. Airplane." 

"Yes." 

"What's that last one then? That doesn't look like a photograph." 

Arthur swallowed. Right. This was the hard part. "I thought about giving you the last rose, but it's... well, a little dead and even if it were alive, you might refuse me again. You never liked roses best." 

"Arthur-" 

Arthur got down on a knee. "Merlin Emrys, I may not have your name tattooed across my heart - or anywhere, to be honest - but it is. It is there just like magic is there in this world, quietly but truly, always. Your mother made me promise that I will protect you with all that I am. So I did. And so I do promise." Arthur popped the last balloon which was too heavy to float. He removed the dragon figurine. A box sat on top of the popped balloon and the buzz around them got louder. Arthur ignored it. "I don't know what the future will bring. I doubt anyone knows, not even my big sister." 

Merlin gave him a wry smile at that. 

"But I do know that I will do my very best to make you smile. And if you ever fall sick, I'll... call Sefa and order your favourite soup." 

Merlin gave him a grin for that. 

"I promise, Merlin, to always love you as you are and care for you to the best of my abilities. I swear it. If you'll have me, I'd be honoured to be yours. Will you marry me?" 

* 

Merlin had written Arthur twenty different letters in the past week, since his Very Odd Day when he met his dad for the first time. He'd torn each of them up, frustrated with the way words and what he meant to say didn't align perfectly. He had written Arthur a fresh letter this morning. That one wasn't yet torn. His plan was to keep it untorn long enough to give it to Arthur on the reunion show. 

But then Arthur showed up, balloons by the dozens and got down on his knee. Merlin didn't plan for this contingency. He didn't know what to do at all, except look towards the Emporium cafe, where he knew his father came to visit almost daily now. 

But his father was closer, stood tall next to Freya. He gave Merlin a nod. He was clean shaven now, since right before his visit to Hunith. And Merlin marvelled to see his own cheekbones on someone else's face, his own eyebrows. 

Merlin looked back at Arthur looking at his future father-in-law. "Looks like we've got dad's blessings too." 

Arthur just gawped at him and then at Balinor and then back at him again. 

"Well? Do I get a ring or not?" 

"Do I get a yes or not?" 

"Yes, Arthur, I will marry you. If you gave me a couple more weeks, I would have-mmmph!" Merlin lost the rest of his sentence to the taste of Arthur's lips. 

Then Arthur was grinning and touching all of his fingers. 

"This one." Merlin held the right finger out. 

"I knew that." But Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and slipped a familiar looking ring on him. 

"Is that-" 

"My mother's." Arthur squeezed his hand. 

Merlin breathed in. The metal felt warm around his finger, probably from where Arthur was sweating over it waiting for his answer. But it felt like more than that. "It's like she's here." 

"Exactly like." Arthur squeezed him close. 

~~ 

"So you thought-" Merlin huffed, even as Arthur kissed down his neck. They were still in the car that poor George was driving. " _-Mordred_? Are you daft?" 

Arthur blushed but buried his face back against Merlin's neck. 

"I mean, if you thought Gwaine or even Gwen, then perhaps." 

"What?!" 

"Just - _Mordred_? He's like a little brother to me." 

"Gwaine?! Gwen?!" 

"I mean they'd be more likely. I like them and they are more my age, if not completely my type." 

"And what _is_ your type?" 

Merlin grinned. "Pratish, with a side of clotpole." 

Arthur grunted as he pushed aside Merlin's scarf completely. "Clearly you mean handsome with a side of awesome." 

"Think a lot of yourself, do you?" But Merlin thought Arthur wasn't completely wrong. "It's more awesome with a side of handsome." 

"I'll take it," Arthur smiled against the side of his neck. 

George cleared his throat. "Shall I cancel the dinner reservation?" 

"Yes, George. Please." Arthur nipped along to behind Merlin's ear. And _oh_. Yeah, _so_ cancelled. Who needed _dinner_? 

* 

Arthur found the letter in Merlin's right trouser pocket. Merlin was fast asleep, an arm thrown haphazardly over his face. 

_Arthur_ , the envelope said, in Merlin's slanted script. 

Arthur opened it. 

_Dear Arthur_ , it began, _we don't have the best timing. What we have are best intentions and a good deal of care for each other, what some might call love. We never called it anything but it was all right. That which doesn't have a name sometimes beats just as true, just as strong. Magic. Us._

_I found my father a week ago. Or, rather, he found me through the show (I think Isolde or Tristan set him up. It doesn't seem like the kind of show dad would watch). In any case, he and mum are starting slow and getting to know each other again. It's weird seeing your parents date. It's really weird._

_But it got me thinking - maybe when it's true love, you don't just let it go. Maybe you pursue it with all your heart and give it your level best._

_I've been trying to decode Morgana's message to me in the mirror from a week ago. (Yes, remind me to tell you about my Very Odd Day.) She seemed to imply that she didn't See something but regular human-thought-she-saw-something. And even if she did See something, I stand in defiance of her vision. It had to be wrong if it were something dire about you and I._

_Dad said no one can predict the future. Not even Seers. And after many beer-fueled nights of deep chats about life with Will and Freya - who look exhausted lately, by the way; I think they're shagging - I've come to believe it as truth. People have free will and free will breeds chaos. Chaos breeds an impossibility for a fixed future._

_I want to pursue a life with you, Arthur. I'm exercising my free will. I have no Magic 8-Ball - that's a regular human thing, by the way - but I will boldly predict the following:_

_\- we'll bicker over everything (some people call this communication, I think?)_  
 _\- we'll be stubbornly unyielding_  
 _\- we'll yield_  
 _\- we'll make love_  
 _\- I'll make the bed_  
 _\- you'll take the photos_  
 _\- we'll grow old and wrinkly together_

_What do you say?_

_Love,_  
 _Merlin_

Carefully, Arthur folded the letter back up and tucked it away next to his mum's photo in his wallet. And then he slipped back into bed, to exercise his free will. 

It involved a rather lot of lips and hands and tongue. 


	10. The Reunion

Arthur's flat always felt a little empty to him. Echo central, Morgana used to say. Now it felt trip-me full. Merlin's things were scattered all about. 

There was even a piece of Play-Doh on his dresser now - something he never thought he would have. And Merlin's spoons were spooning up a storm with his in the kitchen drawers. Merlin's special chopsticks - _"What do you mean why? For the dumplings, of course!"_ \- laid bamboo yellow on top of his white hand towels. Merlin's books were everywhere. Arthur was starting to see why Merlin always looked like he was about to trip. 

It was a cultivated gait. 

Merlin himself, of course, was all over Arthur these days; _that_ Arthur had no qualms about. He rather liked a lapful of Merlin in the morning and another in the evening. His lap felt rather empty really during the day at work. 

But waking up with Merlin and coming home to him - that more than made up for all the hours in between. Even though they didn't go out. And they didn't invite anyone in. And they were essentially still hiding (but only for the show's sake). 

"Is this all right?" Arthur had to ask one evening at dinner. They were eating nothing remarkable, just some toasted pita pockets with chicken salad - Morgana had gotten him a cookbook as some sort of twisted apology to Merlin, and Arthur was making an effort with some simple dishes that didn't look _too_ flammable. 

Merlin paused with his mouth stretched wide over the food. "This? It's good. I wouldn't have put quite so much mayonnaise but it's still edible." 

"Such raving reviews. What would I do without you, Merlin? But what I meant was is this -" and he reached out to touch the ring strung on a string around Merlin's neck - "secrecy all right?" 

Merlin looked at his pita pocket again as his stomach grumbled. "It's not a secret though. Not to anyone who matters." He took a large bite of his sandwich and _mmm_ 'ed as he chewed. 

"Did you skip lunch again?" 

"Not by choice, you know that." 

And Arthur did. The media vultures - they all wanted the inside scoop. And because Merlin, the idiot, revealed on the show where he worked, they all showed up to work with him every day. 

Sometimes three times a day. 

Hence the skipped lunches. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to call in Morgana for reinforcement? She _is_ in PR." 

Merlin's eyes popped anime wide. "No. Arthur, don't. Morgana's going overboard already with her apologies. Do you know that, as of this evening, we're in possession of a pair of new blindfolds and handcuffs? Courtesy of your sister." 

" _What_?" 

" _Your_ sister." 

Arthur checked his mobile. Sure enough there was a text from Morgana he had ignored from earlier. 

_Before you ask, Leon loved these. I think you and Merlin will as well. Enjoy. xo_

And oh God. Arthur did _not_ need to know that. He would have to pretend not to know this the next time he saw Leon. 

Merlin gave him a look over his glass as he gulped down a swallow of water. "On the one hand, such an inappropriate gift. On the other, I can't wait to try them out." And Merlin lowered his lashes and took another big bite. 

Arthur forgot how to close his mouth. They've been experimenting with Merlin using magic on him, to hold him down (or to hold him up against the wall, as the case might be), to blindfold him, to really caress him eight places at once. But Arthur had no such magic. Arthur would need help... would need _things_. And here things were. 

"Are you going to eat that?" Merlin eyed his second pita pocket. 

Arthur handed it over wordlessly. He was hungry in an entirely different way now. 

* 

Merlin woke to an inner alarm, one that yanked him out of the mire of sleep. It was four a.m. And then it was five. And then it was half past six, and Arthur was still fast asleep. Merlin didn't know how he could. 

Today was the day. Today they were finally breaking their silence. They were coming out as a couple, as 'Merthur' as their fans had dubbed them. The show had just aired the final rose episode (packed with plenty of clever editing to erase his magical departure, among other things) and now it was time for the reunion show. Merlin was quite looking forward to it, to seeing everyone again. 

He was also anxious. He didn't know what sort of questions would be asked. Not really. He didn't even know what he would say, only what he would wear (his ring, of course). 

He padded into the kitchen, where morning light was shifting through the sheer drapes over the window. He moved to his pot of tulips - a new pair that Arthur brought home a week ago and tried to wave off as something he saw in passing on the way home. 

"Arthur," Merlin hadn't tried to hide his joy. "You got this for our two weeks anniversary, didn't you?" 

"Two weeks is too short to be an anniversary," Arthur had grumbled as he hung up his suit jacket. There was a lunch meeting, Merlin remembered. It must have shorted Arthur's temper. And he _still_ remembered and got him flowers. 

"Flies would disagree with you." Merlin threw his arms tight around Arthur and squeezed. "As would I." 

And he kissed Arthur's cheek and took hold of Arthur's hand. "I got you something, too." 

Arthur was pleased, Merlin could tell, even though he only asked, "Is it food? I'm starving." 

"No, it's quite inedible, I'm afraid. Here, sit." And Merlin got on his knees before the sofa. 

Arthur eyed him hotly from where he was sat, legs splayed wide. 

"Not that either." Merlin had laughed. He supposed this posture could well be misconstrued. "Come here." He led Arthur to the living room windows where a quiet sunset was spreading mauve over the city. 

"Don't be frightened but don't get over-excited either. Remember she won't be able to hear you." Merlin trained his eyes on the closest smooth surface and uttered a spell from the runes from The Emrys Collection. Gaius had finally helped him crack one. And it was this one. Merlin _had_ to use it for Arthur. 

Arthur stilled in the circle of his arms. Tentatively, he reached out to try to touch the rain. "Merlin." Arthur said his name reverently. "Her eyes, her skin..." 

"And her hair and her laugh. You have them." 

"They were true then, the stories." 

Merlin opened his palm over another window and another scene washed over the pane - Arthur in the arms of his mother. 

Ygraine tickled baby Arthur in that moment in time, drawing forth a smile, a laugh, two. 

Arthur turned to hug him tight. "Way to show me up." 

Merlin hugged him back tighter. 

Idly, Merlin turned now from the memory to tend to his flowers. There was a dragon design etched on the side of the pot. "Tulips are better, but dragons are always best, aren't they?" Arthur had asked. 

And it wasn't a question at all. It was fact. 

Merlin smiled to himself as he turned the pot again, to better catch the sun. His tulips were thriving, inching steadily higher and higher, sturdier. 

"Baby, are you up already?" Arthur was suddenly stood sleep-casual in the middle of the room as he stretched, making an oblong round of his arms and of his mouth as he yawned. 

Merlin's mouth quirked up. Arthur was wearing his smiley face boxers and looking morning grumpy the way he got when he didn't get enough sleep, and alright, that might have been _partly_ his fault. 

"Morning." 

"I'm starting to get jealous of that pot. You're always petting it." 

With a flick of his finger, Merlin levitated it. " _Tending_. I'm tending to magic, cultivating it like Nimueh said." 

"Mmm," Arthur grunted, sounding no happier with that answer. He plopped himself up on the counter behind Merlin and glomped him, all limbs and chest and heat. 

"Like Gaius and Alice said as well. How's that? And dad." And Merlin marvelled that he got to say _dad_ like it was no big deal, like it was real and any day now he could take Balinor to show and tell. 

"Better." Arthur dropped a kiss to his ear and silently watched him magic-feel through the soil, encouraging the scents and blooms. 

After a while, Arthur caught his hand, the one with the ring on it. "You're wearing it." He sounded much happier at that. 

"Of course I am. I can now." 

"My Merlin." Arthur sounded it out, sleepy and sweet, and Merlin thought yeah, this was his Arthur and they were really, really together. 

~~ 

Merlin's leg kicked out in a nervous tic. The show couldn't possibly have chosen a more awkward seating arrangement. He was sandwiched between Sophia and Mordred on a kidney-shaped sofa. Gwen was half way around the room, and she was the one he really wanted to talk to. He had passed a grinning Lance earlier as they were ushered into the room, and he wanted all the scoops. _All_ of them. 

Arthur was too far away, placed in the centre with Tristan and Isolde, equal distance from each of the top fifteen contestants, the ones whose names were repeated ad nauseum throughout the show until they were stuck in the viewers' minds. 

They have just devoted too much time to Elaine's redemption arc and Vivian's second chance at life. Merlin watched Vivian milk her airtime and thought: _she's selling my story. Any day now_ The Sun _was going to declare me an alien love child of The Doctor or some such: 'Magical Merlin Stops Time, Saves Princess Viv'._

Merlin didn't care really. Most people would wave it off as rubbish. And the ones who believed - well, they wouldn't be completely wrong. 

What was completely wrong was how awkward the space to his left felt. Sophia was asked about her first kiss with Arthur and how she was able to persuade him (all that was captured on camera was her speaking in an unknown tongue). She was blushing and stammering and not making a lick of sense. _Magic, magic, magic_ , Merlin thought. So he blurted it out. Everyone turned to look at him. 

"Erm, there are forces in this world that no one understands?" And he couldn't believe he was quoting _Uther_ on national television. "We call it magic?" 

"And there was plenty of magic this season," Isolde cut in, to his relief. 

The relief was short-lived, however. Too soon they were on the topic of Merlin and Mordred's 'torrid affair', complete with a recording of their session in the loo. 

"Care to fill us in on what's happening there?" Tristan looked almost embarrassed to be asking the question. Still, he did his job. 

The audience gasped and booed. Merlin didn't dare look at Mordred. Instead he looked to Arthur for help. 

Arthur held out a palm, placating, and gestured calmly towards the screen. "As my sister rightly noted, our eyes and ears often deceive us. What you witnessed there is simply a couple of good mates discovering a new game. Merlin's a master at video games, you should know. He garners all the high scores. Mordred was simply impressed, as I well would have been." 

A collective _ahhh_ moved through the audience. Merlin was quite surprised that no one questioned it. Video games in the loo? Obviously none of these people played. 

Another hand shot up. "My question is for Merlin. Why did you leave Arthur at the end? And do you regret it?" 

Merlin had anticipated the question. Still, he hated being put on the spot, hated having to lie. "Why did I leave - erm, that's - it felt too good to be true? Like fantasy, to borrow the show's terminology, not reality. Fantasy dates in Thailand - that's a heck of a high to come down from. I was afraid we were- you know, we were rushing it." He stumbled gracelessly over his answer as he clasped his hands together tight. 

As he looked up, he saw Arthur making his way over, a determined look in his eyes. Behind him, Isolde looked exasperated as she blew at a fringe on her forehead. 

In a blink, Arthur was there, squeezing between him and Mordred on the tiny sofa. Arthur bumped his shoulder deliberately. 

"What about the second part?" 

"Second part?" 

"Of the question, _Mer_ lin." 

And Merlin had to think about it. That seemed ages ago. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. Wordlessly, he held up Merlin's left hand, the one he'd been hiding, the one with the ring. 

Oh, right, _that_. " _Apparently_ I regretted it." He grinned as he held Arthur's hand, squeezed. He felt steadier even as he teased. It felt like they were two chopsticks against the world instead of one, a pair. 

The cheers when they came were trivial, faded to the background with Arthur there looking at him like he was the most important person in the world. 

"Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!" A chanting broke out. And Merlin thought he heard Gwaine and Elena's voices amongst the throng. 

Briefly, Merlin thought _peer pressure_. But it was kissing Arthur and _that_ he wasn't going to refuse. He closed his eyes and smiled into the kiss, and felt Arthur smiling back. 

* 

Arthur didn't know what he would have done if Merlin wasn't there with him for the reunion show. It was a tough crowd. People wanted to to know, amongst other things, whether he was really bi or simply 'Merlin-sexual'. 

"You've only kissed one bloke the entire show," someone in the audience pointed out. 

While Arthur's mouth dropped open in surprise, someone else in the audience suggested it was the show's fault. 

"They wouldn't let you, would they? Double standards is what it is." 

Merlin spoke up just then, a genuinely confused, " _Merlin-sexual_?" 

His expression as he said it had the audience cracking up in a laugh. 

Arthur looked at him and thought _idiot, charming idiot_. 

By the time he was ready to answer, the tension in the room had dialled down. So much for that. Arthur found the woman who asked the original question and looked her in the eyes. "I don't know about you, but I've never doubted that Juliet was straight and not simply Romeo-sexual." 

A buzz went up in the audience but Arthur ignored it. "Of _course_ it's personal. It's very personal. I could have kissed more blokes, that's true, but it didn't come to it." Out of his peripheral vision Arthur saw Gwaine on the move. 

"Forgive me, Miss. I was a little slow," Gwaine crawled over Mordred and planted a solid one on Arthur. 

Briefly, Arthur thought _soft hair_. And then in the next instant: _not Merlin_. 

"There! Mission accomplished." Gwaine let him go with an impish grin. 

"So?" 

Arthur snapped his head to look at Merlin, but Merlin was apparently addressing Gwaine. 

Gwaine pretended to think about it, pursing his lips and drumming his fingers on his chin. "Princess is all yours, Merlin." 

Arthur couldn't help his eye roll. 

He also couldn't help noticing Percy scooting that much closer and extending an arm behind Gwaine. 

~~ 

After that segment, Arthur was ushered once again to the centre of the circle, to sit next to Tristan and Isolde. This time, however, he got to bring Merlin along. 

And that made all the difference. 

At the moment the focus was on Gwen and Sophia, the Almost Its. Arthur was only half listening. He kept Merlin's hand securely in his and rubbed at the ring, marvelling at how good, how right it looked on him. 

Until Merlin discreetly kicked him with magic. 

Merlin inclined his head. _Pay attention_. 

"...were up to you Arthur, which one of these ladies would you choose to be our next bachelorette?" 

Arthur didn't know how that decision would _ever_ be up to him. The fans were a significant factor. The bachelorette herself had to consent to going through the entire crazy experience once again, from the harder side, in his opinion. The show had to consider what story point it wanted to sell. He equivocated. "Any of these ladies would be fabulous..." 

"Sophia," Merlin interrupted him. "It has to be Sophia." 

"..." 

"Because in her last interview, Sophia said she only wanted to find someone to love, and I believe the show would be a perfect avenue for her to discover her magic. And also because Gwen's taken." Merlin grinned at her, speaking an entire secret paragraph with his eyes and tilts of head. Gwen spoke back, an eloquent frown-squint and bite of lower lips. 

And belatedly Arthur remembered about Lance. Right. Of course. 

A flurry of follow-up questions flowed until Arthur gently led the line of questioning away from Gwen's mystery lad. Both Lance and Gwen have done him so many favours throughout the show. He owed them this at least. 

"Whilst you contemplate whether Gwen's fallen in love at last, I would just like to mention that Merlin and I might be looking at a winter wedding," he announced. Merlin turned to him in surprise. 

"That is... if Merlin agrees. It would complement his scarf collection. It would make up for the last Christmas we spent together. We could wake up on the new year and start fresh, start again." 

Merlin squeezed his hand and did this funny thing with his lips where Arthur wasn't sure whether he was going to smile or cry. "Mum's going to kill you, you know. That's hardly any time for preparations." 

"Morgana can help," he blurted before he thought it through. 

Merlin's rounded eyes said it all. 

_Oh shite._

"And or Leon or Freya," he amended. 

Merlin laughed. "At least you didn't say Will. He does _not_ appreciate being volunteered." 

"Oh, I've _noticed_." 

Merlin touched his knee to Arthur's. "Winter sounds good, but..." 

And Arthur held his breath; he didn't want his life with Merlin delayed any longer. If he had his way, they would already have been married (in a small, private ceremony with the minimum of fuss). 

"...but, you should know that we've already started fresh." 

Arthur didn't hesitate kissing Merlin this time. No chanting was necessary. Or perhaps just the chanting in his heart: _Merlin-Merlin-Merlin-mine_. 

* 

Merlin's hands were bound, looped in the finest of silk. That nipped at his wrists when he tugged, trying to shuffle down closer to Arthur. _His_. 

Arthur was doing something wonderful at the foot of the bed. Something Merlin couldn't see, only guess. 

His mind raced over the sensations, his skin licking at every touch. Did that taste more like a drizzle of honey or a rub of lube? And good _god_ , that was definitely Arthur's tongue following the heat of his palms, wet over hot, soft over rough. 

Merlin squirmed, wanting more. 

Arthur's hands circled his ankles, squeezed. "Stop kicking me!" 

_Oops_. "Then hurry!" 

"I'm not a horse, _Mer_ lin. You can't make me go faster by kicking my side." 

"Apparently not." 

"Idiot. Just let me. I'll make it worth your while." Arthur breathed over Merlin's cock. 

" _Fuck_." 

Arthur gave the cock head a slow suck. 

"Fuck _yes_." Merlin arched his back, his legs, trying to get closer, higher. 

Arthur moved up to kiss his neck and down to trace over his collarbones, leisurely as you please to the dip at the bottom of his throat, lapping like he didn't want to miss any patch of skin. 

Merlin wanted to bury his fingers in Arthur's perfect head of hair. Instead he pointed his toes, dancer perfect, tense, like he were about to leap. 

And he would. If only Arthur would bloody get on with it. But Arthur went slow, remaining true to his word. 

Arthur always did. Man of his words Arthur was. 

Right now Merlin really wanted to kick him. "Ar _thur_ ," he moaned low in his throat. 

Arthur tweaked his left nipple, sudden, sharp, making him cry out. _God_. So, Arthur knew his body, knew just what to do to turn him on and on and _on_ until Merlin thought he might burst like a balloon. 

Arthur licked over him, sweet, gentling. 

Bastard. 

Merlin wrapped the cords of the restraints tighter around his wrist and _oh god_ , shuddered. Arthur was trailing something icy up over the top of his knee. Up, up along his thigh. Up, up to pool liquid in the cradle of his hips. 

Then Arthur was drinking it up, licking him clean and warm and then hot. "Merlin." Arthur murmured his name like he wanted to hold it on his tongue forever. " _Merlin_." 

Arthur loosened the restraints at his hands and flipped him over. Straddled his lower back. Bound the ties back up. "All right?" 

Merlin could only nod as his cock throbbed, trapped hard between his belly and the sheets. 

Arthur worked his hands over Merlin's shoulders, over the muscle groups below that and lower still until he made his way to the tattoo. 

Arthur traced it ever so lightly, like he was trying to draw it or perhaps trying to pin it down. 

Merlin was surprised by the first lick at his entrance. The softness of Arthur always surprised him. The cool, soft sweep of his hair over Merlin's skin. The wet, soft trace of his tongue. 

Something cold dug blunt against Merlin's bum, a drastic contrast. _Oh_. Arthur's ring. Merlin wanted to give Arthur another. But that was topic for another day. 

Today there was only the thrill, the freedom of going public with Arthur and then _this_ , this dizzy spiral higher and higher up the tiers of letting go and feeling good and- 

_God_ , Arthur licked him again, firm but leisurely. Merlin shoved back against his face, only to be rewarded with a sharp pinch low on his bum. 

He whimpered and tried to hold still as Arthur licked him some more, driving him closer and closer to the edge, to the inevitable. 

When he was almost there, Arthur stopped. One of his hand slipped under Merlin's belly, nudging him up to his knees. 

"Come on then." Arthur stroked him, steady pumps at his cock that had Merlin scrambling for balance on the twist of the ties. 

And Arthur's tongue nudged in, coated with a good sprinkle of urgency now, circling him wider and wider open. Merlin clenched and curled his toes. 

_So close._

Arthur left off, just one hand on Merlin's hips now to steady him. Then there was sudden coolness at his back. Lube. _Dear god, please let it be lube._

Arthur laughed. So perhaps Merlin said that last out loud. In any case, Arthur answered him with two fingers fitted in tight, scissoring. And that, oh, that felt better. 

Especially when Arthur slid between his legs and licked up his dick and sucked. 

Another finger joined the original two as Arthur worked him over. "C'mon, Merlin." Arthur said around him, sending goose pimples all over his skin. "You wanted to-" 

Merlin came, a blind thrill as he emptied over Arthur. 

Arthur stroked him through it, endearments peppering the air like a thousand kisses. 

Merlin slumped over after the last shudder. He felt light. 

_Lighter_. 

Arthur had turned him over. Arthur's face was in his face, kissing him. Merlin realised then that the blindfold was gone. 

"Wanted to see you." Arthur cradled his face and brushed a cheekbone with his lips. "Wanted to see your eyes." 

And then Arthur was throwing Merlin's legs over his own. More lube rubbed at his entrance. Two fingers were back and then three. Merlin sighed as he clenched around them. 

He watched Arthur all the while, watched the look of concentration on Arthur's face as he stared at him and steadily fucked into him with his clever hand. "Did you get it?" Merlin stared back hard. 

"Get what?" 

"Message from my eyes, of course. I was sending you one." 

Arthur squinted at him, hand stilling. "You... love me." 

"That's not it." 

"You love my cock." 

"Not... quite." 

"You love it when I love you with my cock." 

Merlin laughed. "Alright then." 

Arthur twisted around to reach the supplies behind him. 

"No." Merlin turned him back with his feet (his hands were still bound). "Just you." 

Arthur gulped, his Adam's apple rising, falling. "I love you." 

"You mean when you love me with your cock." 

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur lined himself up and pushed in and _oh,_ that felt intense, like there was more skin, more nerve endings, more _Arthur_. Like there were no boundaries between them, no _yours_ or _mine_ , only _ours_. "Other times too," Arthur rocked into him. 

Merlin didn't have the wherewithal to reply for a while. The steady, pounding rhythm Arthur set was getting him fully hard again, buzzing right at the edge of _almost_ again. 

He let his eyes do the talking. And then thought better of it. "I love you, Arthur. I swear I always will." 

Arthur gazed back at him with wonderfully wordy eyes. _Oh God, me too, me too._ His hips stuttered and he buried a grunt in Merlin's neck as he bit down. 

Merlin came with him. 

And then came down with him. 

Later, Arthur unbound him gently, kissed his wrists and kissed his palms. And Merlin knew he would be staying, for always, no restraints necessary. He wrapped his arms around Arthur and fell dreamless into a deep sleep. 

* 

"Now that the dream dates are over, the dream begins for our bachelor and his fiancé." Isolde said at the end of the reunion show. 

Arthur rather thought she meant it too, even though those were the exact words on the teleprompter. 

Merlin squeezed his hand before crossing the room to squeeze Gwen close. To squeeze the latest gossip out of her too, if Arthur had to guess. He smiled to himself. Nothing hurt now. He and Merlin - the distance between them felt elastic these days, felt warm. 

Merlin looked back at him and grinned just then, as if reading his mind. And Arthur smiled back, wasn't at all perturbed when Percy and Gwaine joined in the little gossip huddle. 

"Arthur." 

Arthur tensed most minutely. "Sophia." 

She hugged him, a soft hand over his neck and eyes that came away a little teary. "Congratulations on your engagement. I wanted to tell you that they offered me the spot for the next bachelorette. My father will be pleased." 

And oh, that was fast. "Are _you_ pleased?" 

She looked down. "I wanted..." She looked up at him again. "I liked you, Arthur, a lot. But I wanted you to like me for me and not... any other reason." 

"Magic?" Arthur whispered and she blanched. "I won't- I won't tell. It's all right." 

"I won't use it again. Not like that. I saw you with Merlin and I want what you have. I want something real." 

"And you will find it. I'm certain of it." He squeezed her arm and gave her another hug. 

The next person to approach him brought him way less anxiety. Elena twisted her mouth to the side. "So," she punched him in the arm as Leon would. "I kissed someone," she confessed. "I thought you should know that so you're not blindsided if it ever hits the gossip rags." 

"Good for you." And Arthur meant it. "Is it someone in this room?" He looked over at Mithian looking their way. 

"Perhaps." Elena swirled her glass of drink. 

"That's why I let you go, you know? Morgana said you deserved a chance with Mithian." 

Elena's eyes softened. "I knew I liked your sister! She's gorgeous, by the way." 

"She's also taken." 

Elena gasped and slapped his arm. "Well, I don't care, do I? I'm taken as well." 

Arthur laughed. It was nice being able to tease and be at ease with Elena. 

It was even nicer having Merlin back, even momentarily. 

"I have to - erm, I promised them that I would show them our museum. That okay?" And Merlin kissed him sweetly like that was fair thing to do at all. 

"You'll come home soon?" 

Merlin leaned into him and whispered, "As soon as I can. I believe we still have some new gifts to explore." 

Merlin stole away before Arthur had time to choke on his own spit. Awesome. His fiancé was going to kill him with tease before they even got a chance to get married. 

~~ 

"I was thinking..." Merlin kissed down his shoulder the next morning as Arthur struggled to wake. "Perhaps we should postpone our wedding." 

Arthur woke up straight away. "What?" 

"Shhh," Merlin laid a finger over his lips. "Hear me out. The queen, bless her, has given her stamp of approval. Same-sex marriage is going to be legal here, Arthur. It's happening. And I want -" 

"Yes." He kissed Merlin's finger. "Yes, that's brilliant." 

"Yeah? Next summer? It'll be legal then. What do you say?" 

"Is it next summer yet?" He tumbled Merlin down beneath him on the bed. 

Merlin laughed. "I sure hope not. We haven't picked out a cake or who we want to invite." 

"Chocolate. Whomever you want. Gwaine only if we can get him to sign a statement that he won't consume all the alcohol. I'm sure I'll be needing some too if our fathers are going to be in the same room." 

Merlin snorted. "Done." 

They stayed together like that for a while, quiet, peaceful, until Merlin wiggled again. "Do you want eggs?" 

Arthur eyed him suspiciously. "I'm not falling for that again. If you want to show me a picture of a dragon egg, Merlin, just say so." 

"Chicken, Arthur, chicken egg. Sunny side up?" 

"You want me to come with you, don't you?" 

"You can make the tea." 

~~ 

Arthur didn't expect the box on the counter, right in front of the tea bags and honey. 

"What's this?" He picked it up and shook it lightly. It was heavy and a small clinking rang out. 

"Open it." Merlin oiled a pan and opened a carton of eggs. As Arthur watched, he set down two plates and reached for the salt and pepper. _Arms_ , Arthur thought, and snapped a mental picture. 

He turned back to the box and worked sleepy fingers slow over the packaging. _Camelot_ , the top card said. He removed it. Another card sat beneath that one - _King Arthur_ , it said. Underneath it, the finished red dragon glinted golden in the sun. 

"You finished it." Arthur took it out gingerly, fingering at the sword tied at the dragon's side. 

"Excalibur," Merlin said over the crackle and pop of the egg frying. 

There was a crown too. "You're turning the myth on its head." 

"You should try turning the dragon on its head," Merlin said casually. Too casually. 

Arthur turned the toy upside down. It creaked and folded, transforming through some origami magic until a person - King Arthur, Arthur supposed - stood proud, wearing his crown and wielding his sword. 

"It's the first in the series," Merlin said, spatula scraping at the pan now as he slid the first of the eggs onto a plate. 

"Is the wizard Merlin next?" 

"You don't think it should be Queen Guinevere or Knight Lancelot?" 

"Wizard Merlin." Arthur turned the king again, to watch the toy fold and shift back into a dragon. "This magic wouldn't be believable without him." 

"Not because he was a wise counsel to the king?" 

"Oh, he was much more than that, don't you think?" Arthur didn't even care that he was blatantly talking about the real them and not the legend. He eyed the eggs and realised with a start that he completely forgot about the tea. 

He reached for the kettle, but Merlin batted his hand away. "I got it. Have you checked the king's pouch?" 

And okay, that was rude. "What are you talking about? He has no pouch! He's not _fat_." 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Leather pouch. Where he keeps his gold." 

_Oh_ . "There's toy gold? That's some impressive detail, _Mer_ lin." He looked in the box again. 

It was a real pouch, too big to match the toy. Arthur untied the tie and then stopped. It was gold, but it wasn't a coin or a nugget or anything he expected. It was a ring. 

"Merlin..." 

Merlin slid the second egg onto the second plate and turned off the whistle of the kettle. He wiped his hands twice, and then a third time, on the hand towel. Merlin was nervous! It was the cutest thing. 

"Is it for me?" Arthur couldn't help but feel pleased. He tried it on his ring finger. It fit. 

Merlin cleared his throat. "Arthur." 

"Yes, Merlin?" 

"Please take that off." 

"What?" Arthur twisted the ring, inspecting it. "Is it not for me?" 

"Arthur," Merlin came up to him and held out a hand. "Stop being a prat. Of course it's for you. But I want you to take it off just for a moment." 

"Why? So you can put it on?" 

" _Arthur_." 

" _Merlin_." 

"God, you’re the most stubborn git ever. You’re lucky I love you." 

"I am lucky," Arthur readily agreed. He took the ring off and deposited it on Merlin’s palm. 

Merlin closed his fingers over it. "It's just - Arthur, I left you twice." 

"I _know_." 

"And both times it felt like I was tearing off a limb." 

"Just a limb?" 

"I felt off-balance, like I've lost my centre." 

"Well..." 

"Don't even start!" Merlin opened his palm and plucked up the ring. "Here, this isn't my mother's ring, but I had it engraved. I'd like you to read it." 

Arthur looked inside the gold and silver band and read. "I'll protect you or die at your side." And there were two little hearts at the end with their initials in them. Nobody swore like this anymore, but here Merlin was, swearing forever. Arthur cleared his throat. "Shouldn't it be 'and'? I'll protect you _and_ die at your side?" 

"You wouldn't die if I protected you, prat." 

"Ever?" And Arthur slipped the ring on, feeling something solid finally settle. He was loved. There was proof. 

"Eternity might be a bit of a long time." 

"Might be. If you weren't there too." Arthur hugged Merlin warm and close to his chest. "Thank you." 

Merlin clutched him back. And they stayed like that for a while. 

Until Arthur's stomach grumbled and Merlin laughed loud in his ear. 

"Your fault, you know?" Arthur eyed the eggs and the tea. "Making breakfast and making my life. Not fair, you know?" 

Merlin started singing that Train song and wiggling his hips. "The way you move ain't fair, you know?" 

And it really, really was not. Arthur hauled Merlin into a kiss as they danced badly around the kitchen in the morning light. 

Clap-clap went Merlin's hands to some beat of music. And Arthur took the opportunity to shovel eggs into both their mouths. 

"Eggs not wedding cake!" Merlin protested as he chewed around his mouthful. 

"Good, huh?" Arthur washed his portion down with tea. 

"Well, _I_ made it, so." Merlin shrugged, cheeky. 

And Arthur had to agree. Yes, Merlin sure made it so. 


	11. The Party

**Epilogue**

_A year later_

Merlin knee-walked across the bed and slipped his hands into Arthur's hair. It was blow-dry soft and Merlin couldn't help running his finger through the silkiness. 

Arthur looked at him in warning. "Morgana is never going to forgive us if we're late." 

"Yeah, yeah." Merlin kissed him slowly anyway, drawing him down to the bed. 

" _Mer_ lin. I don't fancy dying at the hands of my sister." Still, Arthur kissed him back. 

"I don't fancy you dying ever." And Merlin kissed him harder. It still boggled his mind some days that he got to have Arthur to himself like this. It was unfathomable just a little over a year ago, but here they were, more married than married. 

"No dying ever. Here, put it on me." Arthur's hand came up to Merlin's face, dragging rich, red fabric. 

Merlin hadn't seen the tie in years. He had assumed it had been donated, gone in one of those drives that Morgana was always hosting. "You kept it." Merlin grabbed it, even as his heart jumped. 

"Idiot. You don't give away memories you want to keep." Arthur shifted his weight on top of Merlin. 

"That memory? You want to keep-" 

"You." Arthur rubbed his nose over Merlin's. "Wanted to keep _you_." 

"Are you sure this goes with-" 

"It goes with everything. And it matches your bow tie." 

Merlin hadn't yet put on his bow tie or even laid it out. He narrowed his eyes at Arthur. "Gwen told you, didn't she?" 

Arthur shrugged, looking sheepish. 

"Oh my god, you pestered a pregnant woman!" 

"I didn't!" Arthur looked wounded. "I just - asked Lance to ask her if she knew-" 

"Oh god. My husband is a terror." 

"Shut up. I did it for you." 

And all right, that was slightly adorable. Slightly. Merlin pecked him in forgiveness and started wrapping the tie around Arthur's collar. He didn't fancy dying young either. Besides, Morgana and Leon's wedding wasn't something he wanted to miss. 

Not many people were going to miss it really. He'd bet the beach was going to be crawling with paparazzi. Not to mention, the whole gang from their season of _The Bachelor_ was going. It was going to be a mini reunion of awesomeness. 

"What are you smiling about, love?" 

"Us." Merlin slipped the tip of the tie through the loop. "And all the people from the show. You think Gwaine's come around yet?" 

"I hope so." 

Percy had been stealth dating Gwaine. Only, two weeks ago when Elena pointed that out to Gwaine, he had been bewildered. 

"You guys have sex?" She asked. 

Gwaine raised an eyebrow. "Understatement." 

"You eat together a lot?" 

"Food is _life_." 

"He drinks with you." 

"Of course he drinks with me! He's my mate." 

"You whack things around together in that gym of yours?" 

"So?" 

"And you watch films together? And you go out regularly and your mum and his mum are BFFs? And you spent the last bloody Valentine's attached to his lips?" 

"What are you saying?" 

"Poor Percy's been wooing your thick head, you arse!" And Elena whacked him with a pillow. 

"Oh." And Gwaine had been avoiding Percy ever since. But today they were both due at the wedding. Merlin was crossing his fingers for Percy. And really, for Gwaine too. 

It was funny how things worked out. Their season turned out him and Arthur, Lance and Gwen (with a baby on the way!), Elena and Mithian, and heavens willing, Gwaine and Percy. Merlin thought that was pretty magical really, for a show that was half scripted and a quarter soaked in gin. 

"Do you think we would have found each other again without the show?" 

Arthur looked at him like he was daft. "We got together _despite_ the show, Merlin. That whole Mordred disaster! Or have you forgotten?" 

"Oh, you're going to blame it on _Mordred_? God, you prat." 

"Fine, and Morgana, but I can't send bad vibes her way today. She would curse me." And Arthur looked adorable with his wide eyes, looking genuinely worried. 

Merlin had to laugh. "I will protect you from all the curses in the world." He touched Arthur's ring, where he swore this. 

Arthur grabbed his hand and tangled their fingers together. Of course that was when both of their trousers began vibrating. 

"Tonight," Arthur looked at him with intense eyes. 

"Tonight what?" 

"There will be a lot of charming, beautiful people at the party today, but tonight I'm coming home with you, to us." 

"And we're going to what?" 

"Make babies, of course." Arthur nuzzled into him and clambered off, offering a hand. 

Merlin took it. "Babies!?" His heart jumped a beat or two. "You know, I said soon. Soon is not now." 

"No, but soon is not never." Arthur kissed him with a smile. "No rush. I know my genius husband is busy building his Camelot line." 

" _Our_ Camelot line." 

And it was true. Arthur had been photographing his works, making surreal works of his own. "That bench - Wizard Merlin waited there for centuries for his Once and Future King, I'm sure of it." Arthur said. And in his picture the wizard looked out over an immense foggy pond, which could have been Lake Avalon for all anyone knew. It looked so heartbreaking that Merlin insisted they went next to the forest (park). 

"This is where they proved Arthur's the true king, where he drew the sword out from a rock." Merlin felt sure of it too in that moment. Arthur placed the wizard behind his king. "All this one's doing, I'm telling you." And Merlin couldn't disagree. 

He also couldn't wait to finish more pieces - the queen and the knights and the Lady of the Lake. Their investors were quite excited. And Merlin was quite excited about their investors. He rather thought Arthur's photographs had a lot to do with landing them. Arthur, of course, insisted it was the oddball team of Morgana and William, who turned out more talented in marketing than anyone could have guessed. 

Whatever the case, Camelot was now their collective project. Leon was even crafting an original case to go with the toys and Freya was lending her calligraphy skills for the notes. Merlin loved his team. 

Above all, Merlin loved his husband, the one who was throwing a bow tie his way and dragging him out the door. 

"George is honking. We must be really late." 

~~ 

They were only a little late. Gwen was very pregnant and Morgana was lip-bitingly nervous. Too nervous to even catch on that Merlin's bow tie was crooked (Arthur spent more time running his hands all over his person than over his tie). 

It didn't matter though. _Leon's_ tie was on perfectly and Morgana didn't once take her eyes off of him. Merlin thought it was rather sweet. 

Also sweet was the way Mithian and Elena danced all night, nuzzled into each other. 

"They're like horses." Arthur had frowned at them. 

"Of all the inappropriate things…" 

"Why are horses inappropriate? I like horses." 

Merlin could only shake his head. 

Percy and Gwaine almost made him shake his head too. They danced to a fast song before Gwaine turned to leave. But Percy said something quiet and earnest that made Gwaine turn around. 

"I love you," Arthur said. 

"I love you, too." 

"No, I'm providing the soundtrack to that soap opera." 

"Why?" 

"Because I don't have a bat's hearing." 

"No, I'm providing the soundtrack, too." 

Arthur rolled his eyes at him. "Beats me, Gwaine, but ever since you stole my grapes at that picnic, I couldn't stop thinking about you." 

"Well, I like grapes." 

"I like grapes? What kind of response is that? What the hell is Percy supposed to say?" 

"I like you?" 

"Oh. I like _you_." 

"God, we're rubbish at this." 

"Kiss me then." 

Merlin looked at Percy and Gwaine still deep in conversation, not even pretending to be dancing. They weren't kissing. 

"No, you - Merlin - kiss me, Arthur." Arthur turned his head back. 

"Oh. This is really confusing." Merlin kissed him. At least kissing Arthur wasn't a confusing endeavour anymore. Kissing Arthur felt as natural as seeing his parents together these days. 

"I love you." 

"That was for me, right?" 

Merlin kissed him sure. 

"Look." Arthur pointed when they drew apart. Percy and Gwaine were kissing. 

"All right. I stand corrected. We're _awesome_ at this." 

Arthur laughed and dipped him low and swung him high. And Merlin accidentally let through a flash of his magic. A string of fireworks went off inside the tent. 

"To the magic of love!" Morgana toasted the room, before winking at him. 

"And to the love of magic!" William toasted back. 

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was magic. But instead of a stunned silence, the room erupted in cheers. 

Merlin sagged against Arthur in relief. 

"To the love of a warlock," Arthur whispered into his ear. 

"And that of a prince." 

"Thought it was king?" Arthur squeezed him closer. 

"King then." Merlin didn't care what the title was. Arthur was Arthur and Arthur was his. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spied Will swinging Freya around in dance. They were surprisingly good. 

Even Uther was dancing, wrapped in the arms of Lady Helen. 

Merlin was just glad his own father was on the other side of the room. That kind of fireworks they did not need. 

"Merlin," Arthur squeezed his hand. 

"Hmm?" 

"Thank you for being my date." 

Merlin looked at Arthur, splendid in his suit, and grinned. "Thank you for asking." 

"Well, it is one of the biggest events of the year. I couldn't miss it." 

Merlin had to laugh. "You make it sound like a chore." 

"I love Morgana and Leon, but it would have been if you weren't here." Arthur looked serious. 

"Well, here I am, by your side, rescuing you." 

"Don't you mean protecting?" 

"That's the same thing!" 

"Is not." 

"Is too." 

So there were always going to be things they were going to disagree about. But one thing Merlin knew for sure they agreed on - they were going to stand by each other, hand in hand, and protect (rescue) each other come what may. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you'll visit the [art masterpost HERE](http://neigeausoleil.livejournal.com/3955.html) on LJ to give Nana all the love. Or, [HERE](http://angstyourwayin.tumblr.com/post/61337951338/illustrations-based-on-the-fic-tulips-are-better) on Tumblr! ♥


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